LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


GIFT  OF 
MRS.  BRUCE  C.  HOPPER 


-J 


*t* 


TEN 


SERMONS 


OF     RELIGION. 


BY 


THEODORE    PARKER, 

MINISTER  OP  THE  TWENTY-EIGHTH    CONGREGATIONAL    CHURCH,  IN    BOSTON. 


9ECOXD     EDITION. 


BOSTON: 
LITTLE,   BROWN  AND   COMPANY, 

1855.     . 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1S52,  by 

THEODORE  PARKER, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


CAMBRIDGE: 
ALI.EN   AND    FARNIIAM,  PRINTERS. 


TO 

/ 

RALPH   WALDO   EMERSON, 

WITH   ADMIRATION   FOR   HIS    GENIUS, 
AND     WITH     KINDLY     AFFECTION     FOR    WHAT    IN    HIM    IS    FAR    NOBLER 

THAN    GENIUS, 

THIS    VOLUME    IS    DEDICATED     . 

BY     HIS     FRIEND, 

THEODORE    PARKER. 


PREFACE. 


I  have  often  been  asked  by  personal  friends  to  publish 
a  little  volume  of  Sermons  of  Religion,  which  might  come 
home  to  their  business  and  bosoms  in  the  joys  and  sorrows 
of  their  daily  life.  And  nothing  loth  to  do  so  without 
prompting,  I  have  selected  these  which  were  originally 
part  of  a  much  longer  course,  and  send  them  out,  wish- 
ing that  they  may  be  serviceable  in  promoting  the  religious 
welfare  of  mankind  on  both  sides  of  the  ocean.  They  are 
not  Occasional  Sermons,  like  most  of  those  I  have  lately 
published,  which  heavy  emergencies  pressed  out  of  me  ;  but 
they  have  all,  perhaps,  caught  a  tinge  from  the  events  of 
the  day  when  they  were  preached  at  first.  For  as  a  coun- 
try girl  makes  her  festal  wreath  of  such  blossoms  as  the 
fields  offer  at  the  time,  —  of  violets  and  wind-flowers  in  the 
spring,  of  roses  and  water-lilies  in  summer,  and  in  autumn 
of  the  fringed  gentian  and  the  aster, — so  must  it  be  with 
the  sermons  which  a  minister  gathers  up  under  serene  or 
stormy  skies.  This  local  coloring  from  time  and  circum- 
stances I  am  not  desirous  to  wipe  off;  so  the  sad  or  joyous 
aspect  of  the  day  will  be  found  still  tinging  these  printed 


VI  PREFACE. 

Sermons,  as  indeed  it  colored  the  faces  and  tinged  the 
prayers  of  such  as  heard  them  first. 

Sometimes  the  reader  will  find  the  same  fundamental 
idea  reappearing  under  various  forms,  in  several  places  of 
this  hook  ;  and  may  perhaps  also  see  the  reason  thereof  in 
the  fact,  that  it  is  the  primeval  Rock  on  which  the  whole 
thing  rests,  and  of  necessity  touches  the  heavens  in  the 
highest  mountains,  and,  receiving  thence,  gives  water  to  the 
deepest  wells  which  bottom  thereon. 

I  believe  there  are  great  Truths  in  this  book,  —  both 
those  of  a  purely  intellectual  character,  and  those,  much 
more  important,  which  belong  to  other  faculties  nobler  than 
the  mere  intellect  ;  truths,  also,  which  men  need,  and,  as  I 
think,  at  this  time  greatly  need.  But  I  fear  that  I  have  not 
the  artistic  skill  so  to  present  these  needful  truths  that  a 
large  body  of  men  shall  speedily  welcome  them ;  perhaps 
not  the  attractive  voice  which  can  win  its  way  through  the 
commercial,  political,  and  ecclesiastical  noises  of  the  time, 
and  reach  the  ears  of  any  multitude. 

Errors  there  must  be  also  in  this  book.  I  wish  they 
might  be  flailed  out  and  blown  away  ;  and  shall  not  com- 
plain if  it  be  done  even  by  a  rough  wind,  so  that  the  pre- 
cious Truths  be  left  unbroke  and  clean  after  this  winnowing, 
as  bread-stuff  for  to-day,  or  as  seed-corn  for  seasons  yet 
to  come. 

August  24th,  1852. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 
OF    PIETY,    AND    THE    RELATION    THEREOF    TO    MANLY    LIFE  3 

II. 

OF    TRUTH    AND    THE    INTELLECT  .  .  .  .  .  .33 

III. 

OF   JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE 6G 

IV. 

OF  LOVE  AND  THE  AFFECTIONS 102 

V. 

OF   CONSCIOUS   RELIGION    AND   THE    SOUL  .  .  .  139 

VI. 

OF    THE    CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS  .  .  .       185 

VII. 

OF   CONSCIOUS   RELIGION    AS   A   SOURCE   OF    STRENGTH         .  225 

VIII. 

OF    CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A   SOURCE    OF   JOY         .  .  .      259 

IX. 

OF    CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS  .  .  312 

X. 

OF    COMMUNION    WITH    GOD  .......       3G4 


SERMONS. 


I. 


OF  PIETY,  AND  THE  RELATION   THEREOF   TO 
MANLY  LIFE. 


Thou  shalt  love  the  lord  thy  god  with  all  thy  heart, 
-   and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  mind.  —  matt. 
xxii.  37. 

There  are  two  things  requisite  for  complete  and 
perfect  religion,  —  the  love  of  God  and  the  love  of 
man  ;  one  I  will  call  Piety,  the  other  Goodness.  In 
their  natural  development  they  are  not  so  sharply 
separated  as  this  language  would  seem  to  imply ; 
for  piety  and  goodness  run  into  one  another,  so 
that  you  cannot  tell  where  one  begins  and  the  other 
ends.  But  I  will  distinguish  the  two  by  their  centre, 
where  they  are  most  unlike  ;  not  by  their  circum- 
ference, where  they  meet  and  mingle. 

The  part  of  man  which  is  not  body  I  will  call 
the  Spirit ;  under  that  term  including  all  the  facul- 
ties  not   sensual.     Let  me,  for  convenience'  sake, 


4  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY. 

distribute  these  faculties  of  the  human  spirit  into 
four  classes :  the  intellectual,  —  including  the  aes- 
thetic,—  moral,  affectional,  and  religious.  Let  Mind 
be  the  name  of  the  intellectual  faculty,  —  including 
the  threefold  mental  powers,  reason,  imagination, 
and  understanding;  Conscience  shall  be  the  short 
name  for  the  moral,  Heart  for  the  affectional,  and 
Soul  for  the  religious  faculties. 

I  shall  take  it  for  granted  that  the  great  work  of 
mankind  on  earth  is  to  live  a  manly  life,  to  use, 
discipline,  develop,  and  enjoy  every  limb  of  the 
body,  every  faculty  of  the  spirit,  each  in  its  just 
proportion,  all  in  their  proper  place,  duly  coordinat- 
ing what  is  merely  personal,  and  for  the  present 
time,  with  what  is  universal,  and  for  ever.  This 
being  so,  what  place  ought  piety,  the  love  of  God, 
to  hold  in  a  manly  life  ? 

It  seems  to  me,  that  piety  lies  at  the  basis  of  all 
manly  excellence.  It  represents  the  universal  action 
of  man  according  to  his  nature.  This  universal 
action,  the  bent  of  the  whole  man  in  his  normal 
direction,  is  the  logical  condition  of  any  special 
action  of  man  in  a  right  direction,  of  any  particu- 
lar bent  that  way.  If  I  have  a  universal  idea  of 
universal  causality  in  my  mind,  I  can  then  under- 
stand a  special  cause ;  but  without  that  universal 
idea  of  causality  in  my  mind,  patent  or  latent, 
I  could  not  understand  any  particular  cause  what- 


THE   FOURFOLD   F_ORM   OF   PIETY.  5 

ever.  My  eye  might  see  the  fact  of  a  man  cut- 
ting down  a  tree,  but  my  mind  would  comprehend 
only  the  conjunction  in  time  and  space,  not  their 
connection  in  causality.  If  you  have  not  a  uni- 
versal idea  of  beauty,  you  do  not  know  that  this 
is  a  handsome  and  that  a  homely  dress ;  you  notice 
only  the  form  and  color,  the  texture  and  the  fit,  but 
see  no  relation  to  an  ideal  loveliness.  If  you  have 
not  a  universal  idea  of  the  true,  the  just,  the  holy, 
you  do  not  comprehend  the  odds  betwixt  a  correct 
statement  and  a  lie,  between  the  deed  of  the  priest 
and  that  of  the  good  Samaritan,  between  the  fidel- 
,  ity  of  Jesus  and  the  falseness  of  Iscariot.  This 
rule  runs  through  all  human  nature.  The  universal 
is  the  logical  condition  of  the  generic,  the  special, 
and  the  particular.  So  the  love  of  God,  the  uni- 
versal object  of  the  human  spirit,  is  the  logical  con- 
dition of  all  manly  life. 

This  is  clear,  if  you  look  at  man  acting  in  each 
of  the  four  modes  just  spoken  of,  —  intellectual, 
moral,  affectional,  and  religious. 

The  Mind  contemplates  God  as  manifested  in 
truth;  for  truth  —  in  the  wide  meaning  of  the  word 
including  also  a  comprehension  of  the  useful  and 
the  beautiful  —  is  the  universal  category  of  intel- 
lectual cognition.  To  love  God  with  the  mind,  is 
to  love  him  as  manifesting  himself  in  the  truth,  or 
to  the  mind ;  it  is  to  love  truth,  not  for  its  uses,  but 

1* 


b  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM    OF   PIETY. 

for  itself,  because  it  is  true,  absolutely  beautiful 
and  lovely  to  the  mind.  In  finite  things  we 
read  the  infinite  truth,  the  absolute  object  of  the 
mind. 

Love  of  truth  is  a  great  intellectual  excellence; 
but  it  is  plain  you  must  have  the  universal  love 
of  universal  truth  before  you  can  have  any  special 
love  for  any  particular  truth  whatsoever;  for  in  all 
intellectual  affairs  the  universal  is  the  logical  con- 
dition of  the  special. 

Love  of  truth  in  general  is  the  intellectual  part 
of  piety.  We  see  at  once  that  this  lies  at  the 
basis  of  all  intellectual  excellence,  —  at  love  of 
truth  in  art,  in  science,  in  law,  in  common  life. 
Without  it  you  may  love  the  convenience  of  truth 
in  its  various  forms,  useful  or  beautiful;  but  that 
is  quite  different  from  loving  truth  itself.  You  often 
find  men  who  love  the  uses  of  truth,  but  not  truth  ; 
they  wish  to  have  truth  on  their  side,  but  not  to 
be  on  the  side  of  truth.  When  it  does  not  serve 
their  special  and  selfish  turn,  they  are  offended,  and 
Peter  breaks  out  with  his  "  I  know  not  the  man," 
and  "the  wisest,  brightest"  proves  also  the  "meanest 
of  mankind." 

The  Conscience  contemplates  God  as  manifested 
in  right,  in  justice;  for  right  or  justice  is  the  uni- 
versal category  of  moral  cognition.     To  love  God 


THE   FOUKFOLD   FOKM   OF   PIETY.  7 

with  the  conscience,  is  to  love  him  as  manifested 
in  right  and  justice ;  is  to  love  right  or  justice,  not 
for  its  convenience,  its  specific  uses,  but  for  itself, 
because  it  is  absolutely  beautiful  and  lovely  to  the 
conscience.  In  changeable  things  we  read  the 
unchanging  and  eternal  right,  which  is  the  absolute 
object  of  conscience. 

To  love  right  is  a  great  moral  excellence ;  but  it 
is  plain  you  must  have  a  universal  love  of  universal 
right  before  you  can  have  any  special  love  of  a  par- 
ticular right ;  for,  in  all  moral  affairs,  the  universal 
is  the  logical  condition  of  the  special. 

The  love  of  right  is  the  moral  part  of  piety.  This 
lies  at  the  basis  of  all  moral  excellence  whatever. 
Without  this  you  may  love  right  for  its  uses  ;  but 
if  only  so,  it  is  not  right  you  love,  but  only  the 
convenience  it  may  bring  to  you  in  your  selfish 
schemes.  None  was  so  ready  to  draw  the  sword 
for  Jesus,  or  look  after  the  money  spent  upon  him, 
as  the  disciple  who  straightway  denied  and  betrayed 
him.  Many  wish  right  on  their  side,  who  take 
small  heed  to  be  on  the  side  of  right.  You  shall 
find  men  enough  who  seem  to  love  right  in  general, 
because  they  clamor  for  a  specific,  particular  right ; 
but  erelong  it  becomes  plain  they  only  love  some 
limited  or  even  personal  convenience  they  hope 
therefrom.  The  people  of  the  United  States  claim 
to  love   the  unalienable  right   of  man  to  life,  lib- 


0  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY. 

erty,  and  the  pursuit  of  happiness.  But  the  long- 
continued  cry  of  three  million  slaves,  groaning  under 
the  American  yoke,  shows  beyond  question  or  cavil 
that  it  is  not  the  universal  and  unalienable  right 
which  they  love,  but  only  the  selfish  advantage  it 
affords  them.  If  you  love  the  right  as  right,  for 
itself,  because  it  is  absolutely  just  and  beautiful 
to  your  conscience,  then  you  will  no  more  deprive 
another  of  it  than  submit  yourself  to  be  deprived 
thereof.  Even  the  robber  will  fight  for  his  own. 
The  man  who  knows  no  better  rests  in  the  selfish 
love  of  the  private  use  of  a  special  right. 

The  Heart  contemplates  God  as  manifested  in 
love,  for  love  is  the  universal  category  of  affectional 
cognition.  To  love  God  with  the  heart,  is  to  love 
him  as  manifested  in  love ;  it  is  to  love  Love,  not 
for  its  convenience,  but  for  itself,  because  it  is  abso- 
lutely beautiful  and  lovely  to  the  heart. 

Here  I  need  not  reiterate  what  has  already  been 
twice  said,  of  mind  and  of  conscience- 
Love  of  God  as  love,  then,  is  the  affectional  part 
of  piety,  and  lies  at  the  basis  of  all  affectional  excel- 
lence. The  mind  and  the  conscience  are  content 
with  ideas,  with  the  true  and  the  right,  while  the 
heart  demands  not  ideas,  but  Beings,  Persons ;  and 
loves  them.  It  is  one  thing  to  desire  the  love  of  a 
person   for   your   own    use    and   convenience,    and 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY.  9 

quite  different  to  have  your  personal  delight  in 
him,  and  desire  him  to  have  his  personal  delight 
in  you.  From  the  nature  of  the  case,  as  persons 
are  concrete  and  finite,  man  never  finds  the  complete 
satisfaction  of  his  affectional  nature  in  them,  for  no 
person  is  absolutely  lovely,  none  the  absolute  object 
of  the  affections.  But  as  the  mind  and  conscience 
use  the  finite  things  to  help  learn  infinite  truth  and 
infinite  right,  and  ultimately  rest  in  that  as  their 
absolute  object,  so  our  heart  uses  the  finite  persons 
whom  we  reciprocally  love  as  golden  letters  in  the 
book  of  life,  whereby  we  learn  the  absolutely  lovely, 
the  infinite  object  of  the  heart.  As  the  philosopher 
has  the  stars  of  heaven,  each  lovely  in  itself,  where- 
by to  learn  the  absolute  truth  of  science,  —  as  the 
moralist  has  the  events  of  human  history,  each  of 
great  moment  to  mankind,  whereby  to  learn  the 
absolute  right  of  ethics, —  so  the  philanthropist  has 
the  special  persons  of  his  acquaintance,  each  one  a 
joy  to  him,  as  the  rounds  of  his  Jacob's  ladder 
whereby  he  goes  journeying  up  to  the  absolutely 
lovely,  the  infinite  object  of  the  affections. 

The  Soul  contemplates  God  as  a  being  who 
unites  all  these  various  modes  of  action,  as  mani- 
fested in  truth,  in  right,  and  in  love.  It  appre- 
hends him,  not  merely  as  absolute  truth,  absolute 
right,  and  absolute  love  alone,  but  as  all  these  uni- 


10  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY. 

fied  into  one  complete  and  perfect  Being,  the  In- 
finite God.  He  is  the  absolute  object  of  the  soul, 
and  corresponds  thereto,  as  truth  to  the  mind,  as 
justice  to  the  conscience,  as  love  to  the  heart.  He 
is  to  the  soul  absolutely  true,  just,  and  lovely,  the 
altogether  beautiful.  To  him  the  soul  turns  in- 
stinctively at  first;  then  also,  at  length,  with  con- 
scious and  distinctive  will. 

The  love  of  God  in  this  fourfold  way  is  the 
totality  of  piety,  which  comes  from  the  normal  use 
of  all  the  faculties  named  before.  Hence  it  appears 
that  piety  of  this  character  lies  at  the  basis  of  all 
manly  excellence  whatever,  and  is  necessary  to  a 
complete  and  well-proportioned  development  of  the 
faculties  themselves. 


There  may  be  an  unconscious  piety :  the  man 
does  not  know  that  he  loves  universal  truth,  jus- 
tice, love ;  loves  God.  He  only  thinks  of  the 
special  truth,  justice,  and  love,  which  he  prizes. 
He  does  not  reflect  upon  it ;  does  not  aim  to  love 
God  in  this  way,  yet  does  it,  nevertheless.  Many  a 
philosopher  has  seemed  without  religion  even  to 
a  careful  observer;  sometimes  has  passed  for  an 
atheist.  Some  of  them  have  to  themselves  seemed 
without   any  religion,  and  have   denied  that   there 


THE   FOURFOLD    FORM   OF   PIETY.  11 

was  any  God.  But  all  the  while  their  nature  was 
truer  than  their  will;  their  instincts  kept  their  per- 
sonal wholeness  better  than  they  were  aware.  These 
men  loved  absolute  truth,  not  for  its  uses,  but  for 
itself;  they  laid  down  their  lives  for  it,  rather  than 
violate  the  integrity  of  their  intellect.  They  had 
the  intellectual  love  of  God,  though  they  knew 
it  not;  though  they  denied  it.  No  man  ever  has 
a  complete  and  perfect  intellectual  consciousness 
of  all  his  active  nature ;  something  instinctive  ger- 
minates in  us,  and  grows  under  ground,  as  it  were, 
before  it  bursts  the  sod  and  shoots  into  the  light 
of  self-consciousness.  Sheathed  in  unconsciousness 
lies  the  bud,  erelong  to  open  a  bright,  consummate 
flower.  These  philosophers,  with  a  real  love  of 
truth,  and  yet  a  scorn  of  the  name  of  God,  under- 
stand many  things,  perhaps,  not  known  to  common 
men,  but  this  portion  of  their  being  has  yet  escaped 
their  eye ;  they  have  not  made  an  exact  and  exhaus- 
tive inventory  of  the  facts  of  their  own  nature. 
Such  men  have  unconsciously  much  of  the  intellec- 
tual part  of  piety. 

Other  men  have  loved  justice,  not  for  the  per- 
sonal convenience  it  offered  to  them,  but  for  its 
own  sake,  because  it  married  itself  to  their  con- 
science, —  have  loved  it  with  a  disinterested,  even  a 
self-denying  love,  —  who  yet  scorned  religion,  denied 
all   consciousness   of   God,   denied   his   providence, 


12  THE  FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY. 

perhaps  his  existence,  and  would  have  resolved 
God  into  matter,  and  no  more.  Yet  all  the  while 
in  these  men,  dim  and  unconscious,  there  lay  the 
religious  element ;  neglected,  unknown,  it  gave  the 
man  the  very  love  of  special  justice  which  made 
him  strong.  He  knew  the  absolutely  just,  but  did 
not  know  it  as  God. 

I  have  known  philanthropists  who  undervalued 
piety;  they  liked  it  not,  —  they  said  it  was  moon- 
light, not  broad  day ;  it  gave  flashes  of  lightning, 
all  of  which  would  not  make  light.  They  professed 
no  love  of  God,  no  knowledge  thereof,  while  they 
had  the  strongest  love  of  love ;  loved  persons,  not 
with  a  selfish,  but  a  self-denying  affection,  ready  to 
sacrifice  themselves  for  the  completeness  of  another 
man's  delight.  Yet  underneath  this  philanthropy 
there  lay  the  absolute  and  disinterested  love  of  other 
men.  They  knew  only  the  special  form,  not  the 
universal  substance  thereof,  —  the  particular  love  of 
Thomas  or  of  Jane,  not  the  universal  love  of  the 
Infinite.  They  had  the  affectional  form  of  piety, 
though  they  knew  it  not. 

I  have  known  a  man  full  of  admiration  and  of 
love  for  the  universe,  yet  lacking  consciousness  of 
its  Author.  He  loved  the  truth  and  beauty  of  the 
world,  reverenced  the  justice  of  the  universe,  and 
was  himself  delighted  at  the  love  he  saw  pervad- 
ing all  and  blessing  all ;  yet  he  recognized  no  God, 


THE  FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY.  13 

saw  only  a  cosmic  force,  which  was  a  power  of 
truth  and  beauty  to  his  mind,  a  power  of  justice 
to  his  conscience,  and  a  power  of  love  to  his  heart. 
He  had  not  a  philosophic  consciousness  of  the 
deeper,  nobler  action  which  went  on  within  him, 
building  greater  than  he  knew.  But  in  him  also 
there  were  the  several  parts  of  piety,  only  not  joined 
into  one  total  and  integral  act,  and  not  distinctly 
known. 

This  unconsciousness  of  piety  is  natural  with  a 
child.     In   early  life  it  is  unavoidable ;    only   now 
and  then  some  rare  and  precious  boy  or  girl  opens 
from  out  its  husk  of  unconsciousness  his   childish 
bud  of  faith,  and  blossoms  right  early  with  the  con- 
sciousness of  God,  a  "  strong  and  flame-like  flower." 
This  instinctiveness  of  piety  is  the  beauty  of  child- 
hood, the  morning-red  widely  and   gorgeously  dif- 
fused before  the  rising  of  the  sun.     But  as  a  man 
becomes  mature,  adds  reflection  to  instinct,  trans- 
mutes sentiments  into  ideas,  he  should  also  become 
conscious  of  his  religious  action,  of  his  love  of  God 
in  this   fourfold   form;    when  he   loves   truth,  jus- 
tice, love,  he  should  know  that  it  is  God  he  loves 
underneath  these  special  forms,  and   should   unite 
them  all  into  one  great  act  of  total  piety.     As  the 
state  of  self-consciousness  is  a  more  advanced  state 
than  unconsciousness  ;  as  the  reflective  reason  of  the 
man  is  above  the  unreflective  instinct  of  the  child ; 

2 


14  TIIE   FOURFOLD    FORM    OF   PIETY. 

so  the  man's  conscious  piety  belongs  to  a  higher 
stage  of  development,  and  is  above  the  mere  instinc- 
tive and  unconscious  piety  of  the  girl.  Accord- 
ingly, the  philosopher  who  loved  truth  for  its  own 
sake,  and  with  his  mind  denied  in  words  the  God 
of  truth,  was  less  a  philosopher  for  not  knowing 
that  he  loved  God.  He  had  less  intellectual  power 
because  he  was  in  an  abnormal  state  of  intellectual 
religious  growth.  The  man  who  loved  justice  for 
its  own  sake,  and  would  not  for  an  empire  do  a 
conscious  wrong,  whom  the  popular  hell  could  not 
scare,  nor  the  popular  heaven  allure  from  right,  — 
he  had  less  power  of  justice  for  not  knowing  that  in 
loving  right  he  loved  the  God  of  right.  That  phi- 
lanthropist who  has  such  love  of  love,  that  he  would 
lay  down  his  life  for  men,  is  less  a  philanthropist, 
and  has  less  affectional  power,  because  he  knows 
not  that  in  his  brave  benevolence  he  loves  the  God 
of  love.  The  man  full  of  profound  love  of  the 
universe,  -of  reverence  for  its  order,  its  beauty,  its 
justice,  and  the  love  which  fills  the  lily's  cup  with 
fragrant  loveliness,  who  wonders  at  the  mighty  cos- 
mic force  he  sees  in  these  fractions  of  power, — 
he  is  less  a  man  because  he  does  not  know  it  is 
God's  world  that  he  admires,  reverences,  and  wor- 
ships ;  aye,  far  less  a  man  because  he  does  not 
know  he  loves  and  worships  God.  When  he  be- 
comes conscious  of  his  own  spiritual  action,  con- 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY.  15 

scious  of  God,  of  loving  God  with  mind  and  con- 
science, heart  and  soul,  his  special  love  will  in- 
crease, he  will  see  the  defects  there  are  in  his 
piety ;  if  it  be  disproportionate,  through  redun- 
dance here  or  failure  there,  he  can  correct  the  de- 
formity and  make  his  entire  inner  life  harmonious, 
a  well-proportioned  whole.  Then  he  feels  that  he 
goes  in  and  out,  continually,  in  the  midst  of  the 
vast  forces  of  the  universe,  which  are  only  the 
forces  of  God ;  that  in  his  studies,  when  he  attains 
a  truth,  he  confronts  the  thought  of  God ;  when 
he  learns  the  right,  he  learns  the  will  of  God  laid 
down  as  a  rule  of  conduct  for  the  universe ;  and 
when  he  feels  disinterested  love,  he  knows  that  he 
partakes  the  feeling  of  the  infinite  God.  Then, 
when  he  reverences  the  mighty  cosmic  force,  it  is 
not  a  blind  Fate  in  an  atheistic  or  a  pantheistic 
world,  it  is  the  Infinite  God  that  he  confronts, 
and  feels,  and  knows.  He  is  then  mindful  of  the 
mind  of  God,  conscious  of  God's  conscience,  sensi- 
ble of  God's  sentiment,  and  his  own  existence  is  in 
the  Infinite  Being  of  God.  Thus  he  joins  into  a 
whole  integral  state  of  piety  the  various  parts  de- 
veloped by  the  several  faculties ;  there  is  a  new 
growth  of  each,  a  new  development  of  all. 

If  these  things  be  so,  then  it  is  plain  what  rela- 
tion piety  sustains  to  manly  life ;  —  it  is  the  basis 


16  TIIE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY. 

of  all  the  higher  excellence  of  man,  and  when  the 
man  is  mature,  what  was  instinctive  at  first  becomes 
a  state  of  conscious  love  of  God.    * 


Now,  when  this  universal  fourfold  force  is  once 
developed  and  brought  to  consciousness,  and  the 
man  has  achieved  something  in  this  way,  his  piety- 
may  be  left  to  take  its  natural  form  of  expression, 
or  it  may  be  constrained  to  take  a  form  not  natural. 
Mankind  has  made  many  experiments  upon  piety ; 
books  of  history  are  full  of  them.  Most  of  these, 
as  of  all  the  experiments  of  man  in  progress,  are 
failures.  We  aim  many  times  before  we  hit  the 
mark.  The  history  of  religion  is  not  exceptional 
or  peculiar  in  this  respect.  See  how  widely  men 
experiment  in  agriculture,  navigation,  government, 
before  they  learn  the  one  right  way.  The  history  of 
science  is  the  history  of  mistakes.  The  history  of 
religion  and  the  history  of  astronomy  are  equally 
marked  by  error.  It  is  not  surprising  that  mistakes 
have  been  made  in  respect  to  the  forms  of  piety 
after  it  is  procured. 

For  there  are  various  helps  which  are  needful, 
and  perhaps  indispensable,  in  childhood,  to  the  de- 
velopment of  the  love  of  God,  but  which  are  not 
needed  after  the  religious  character  is  somewhat 
mature.     Then  the  man  needs  not  those  former  out- 


THE   FOURFOLD  FORM    OF   PIETY.  17 

ward  helps;  he  has  other  aids  suited  to  his  greater 
strength.  This  is  true  of  the  individual,  repeating 
no  more  the  hymns  of  his  nursery,  —  true  also  of 
mankind,  that  outgrows  the  sacrifices  and  the  my- 
thologies of  the  childhood  of  the  world.  Yet  it 
is  easy  for  human  indolence  to  linger  near  these 
helps,  and  refuse  to  pass  further  on.  So  the  unad- 
venturous  nomad  in  the  Tartarian  wild  keeps  his 
flock  in  the  same  close-cropped  circle  where  they 
first  learned  to  browse,  while  the  progressive  man 
roves  ever  forth  "to  fresh  fields  and  pastures  new." 
See  how  parents  help  develop  the  body  of  the 
child.  The  little  boy  is  put  into  a  standing-stool, 
or  baby-jumper,  till  he  learns  to  walk.  By  and  by 
he  has  his  hoop,  his  top,  his  ball;  each  in  turn  is 
laid  aside.  He  has  helps  to  develop  his  mind  not 
less,  —  little  puzzles,  tempting  him  to  contrive, — 
prints  set  off  with  staring  colors  ;  he  has  his  alpha- 
bet of  wooden  letters,  in  due  time  his  primer,  his 
nursery  rhymes,  and  books  full  of  most  wonderful 
impossibilities.  He  has  his  early  reader,  his  first 
lessons  in  arithmetic,  and  so  goes  on  with  new 
helps  proportionate  to  his  strength.  It  is  a  long 
slope  from  counting  the  fingers  up  to  calculating 
the  orbit  of  a  planet  not  yet  seen.  But  the  fingers 
and  the  solar  system  are  alike  helps  to  mathematic 
thought.  When  the  boy  is  grown  up  to  man's 
estate,  his  body  vigorous  and   mature,  he  tries  his 


18  THE   FOURFOLD    FORM   OF   PIETY. 

strength  in  the  natural  work  of  society,  is  a  mer- 
chant, a  sailor,  a  mechanic,  a  farmer;  he  hews 
stones,  or  lifts  up  an  axe  upon  the  thick  timber. 
For  a  long  time  his  body  grows  stronger  by  his 
work,  and  he  gets  more  skill.  His  body  pays  for 
itself,  and  refunds  to  mankind  the  cost  of  its  train- 
ing up.  When  his  mind  is  mature,  he  applies  that 
also  to  the  various  works  of  society,  to  transact 
private  business,  or  manage  the  affairs  of  the  public ; 
for  a  long  time  his  mind  grows  stronger,  gaining 
new  knowledge  and  increase  of  power.  Thus  his 
mind  pays  for  its  past  culture,  and  earns  its  tuition 
as  it  goes  along. 

In  this  case  the  physical  or  mental  power  of  the 
man  assumes  its  natural  form,  and  does  its  natural 
work.  He  has  outgrown  the  things  which  pleased 
his  childhood  and  informed  his  youth.  Nobody 
thinks  it  necessary  or  beautiful  for  the  accomplished 
scholar  to  go  back  to  his  alphabet,  and  repeat  it 
over,  to  return  to  his  early  arithmetic  and  para- 
digms of  grammar,  when  he  knows  them  all;  for 
this  is  not  needful  to  keep  an  active  mind  in  a 
normal  condition,  and  perform  the  mental  work  of 
a  mature  man.  Nobody  sends  a  lumberer  from  the 
woods  back  to  his  nursery,  or  tells  him  he  cannot 
keep  his  strength  without  daily  or  weekly  sleeping 
in  his  little  cradle,  or  exercising  with  the  hoop,  or 
top,  or  ball,  which  helped  his  babyhood.     Because 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY.  19 

these  little  trifles  sufficed  once,  they  cannot  help  him 
now.  Man,  reaching  forward,  forgets  the  things  that 
are  behind. 

Now  the  mischief  is,  that,  in  matters  of  religion, 
men  demand  that  he  who  has  a  mature  and  well- 
proportioned  piety  should  always  go  back  to  the 
rude  helps  of  his  boyhood,  to  the  ABCof  religion 
and  the  nursery  books  of  piety.  He  is  not  bid  to 
take  his  power  of  piety  and  apply  that  to  the  com- 
mon works  of  life.  The  Newton  of  piety  is  sent 
back  to  the  dame-school  of  religion,  and  told  to 
keep  counting  his  fingers,  otherwise  there  is  no 
health  in  him,  and  all  piety  is  wiped  out  of  his  con- 
sciousness, and  he  hates  God  and  God  hates  him. 
He  must  study  the  anicular  lines  on  the  school- 
dame's  slate,  not  the  diagrams  of  God  writ  on  the 
heavens  in  points  of  fire.  We  are  told  that  what 
once  thus  helped  mould  a  religious  character  must 
be  continually  resorted  to,  and  become  the  perma- 
nent form  thereof. 

This  notion  is  exceedingly  pernicious.  It  wastes 
the  practical  power  of  piety  by  directing  it  from 
its  natural  work ;  it  keeps  the  steam-engine  always 
fanning  and  blowing  itself,  perpetually  firing  itself 
up,  while  it  turns  no  wheels  but  its  own,  and  does 
no  work  but  feed  and  fire  itself.  This  constant 
firing  up  of  one's  self  is  looked  on  as  the  natural 
work  and    only  form   of  piety.     Ask   any   popular 


20  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY. 

minister,  in  one  of  the  predominant  sects,  for  the 
man  most  marked  for  piety,  and  he  will  not  show 
you  the  men  with  the  power  of  business  who  do 
the  work  of  life,  —  the  upright  mechanic,  merchant, 
or  farmer ;  not  the  men  with  the  power  of  thought, 
of  justice,  or  of  love ;  not  him  whose  whole  life  is 
one  great  act  of  fourfold  piety.  No,  he  will  show 
you  some  men  who  are  always  a  dawdling  over 
their  souls,  going  back  to  the  baby-jumpers  and 
nursery  rhymes  of  their  early  days,  and  everlast- 
ingly coming  to  the  church  to  fire  themselves  up, 
calling  themselves  "  miserable  offenders,"  and  say- 
ing, "  save  us,  good  Lord."  If  a  man  thinks  him- 
self a  miserable  offender,  let  him  away  with  the 
offence,  and  be  done  with  the  complaint  at  once 
and  for  ever.  It  is  dangerous  to  reiterate  so  sad 
a  cry. 

You  see  this  mistake,  on  a  large  scale,  in  the 
zeal  with  which  nations  or  sects  cling  to  their  re- 
ligious institutions  long  after  they  are  obsolete. 
Thus  the  Hebrew  cleaves  to  his  ancient  ritual  and 
ancient  creed,  refusing  to  share  the  religious  sci- 
ence which  mankind  has  brought  to  light  since  Mo- 
ses and  Samuel  went  home  to  their  God.  The  two 
great  sects  of  Christendom  exhibit  the  same  thing  in 
their  adherence  to  ceremonies  and  opinions  which 
once  were  the  greatest  helps  and  the  highest  ex- 
pression of  piety  to  mankind,  but  which  have  long 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY.  21 

since  lost  all  virtue  except  as  relics.  The  same 
error  is  repeated  on  a  small  scale  all  about  us,  men 
trying  to  believe  what  science  proves  ridiculous,  and 
only  succeeding  by  the  destruction  of  reason.  It 
was  easy  to  make  the  mistake,  but  when  made  it 
need  not  be  made  perpetual. 

Then  this  causes  another  evil :  not  only  do  men 
waste  the  practical  power  of  piety,  but  they  cease 
to  get  more.  To  feed  on  baby's  food,  to  be  dan- 
dled in  mother's  arms,  —  to  play  with  boys'  play- 
things, to  learn  boys'  lessons,  and  be  amused  with 
boys'  stories,  —  this  helps  the  boy,  but  it  hinders 
the  man.  Long  ago  we  got  from  these  helps  all 
that  was  in  them.  To  stay  longer  is  waste  of 
time.  Look  at  the  men  who  have  been  doing 
this  for  ten  years ;  they  are  where  they  were  ten 
years  ago.  They  have  done  well  if  they  have  not 
fallen  back.  If  we  keep  the  baby's  shoes  for  ever 
on  the  child,  what  will  become  of  the  feet  ?  What 
if  you  kept  the  boy  over  his  nursery  rhymes  for 
ever,  or  tried  to  make  the  man  grown  believe  that 
they  contained  the  finest  poetry  in  the  world,  that 
the  giant  stories  and  the  fairy  tales  therein  were 
all  true ;  what  effect  would  it  have  on  his  mind  ? 
Suppose  you  told  him  that  the  proof  of  his  man- 
hood consisted  in  his  fondness  for  little  boys'  play- 
things, and  the  little  story-books  and  the  little  games 
of  little   children,  and  kept   him   securely  fastened 


22  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY. 

to  the  apron-strings  of  the  school-dame;  suppose 
you  could  make  him  believe  so !  You  must  make 
him  a  fool  first.  What  would  work  so  bad  in 
intellectual  affairs  works  quite  as  ill  in  the  matter 
of  piety.  The  story  of  the  flood  has  strangled  a 
world  of  souls.  The  miracles  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment no  longer  heal,  but  hurt  mankind. 

Then   this   method    of    procedure  disgusts   well- 
educated  and  powerful  men  with  piety  itself,  and 
with   all   that   bears   the   name   of  religion.      "  Go 
your  ways,"  say  they,  "  and  cant  your  canting  as 
much  as  you  like,  only  come  not  near  us  with  your 
grimace."     Many  a  man  sees  this  misdirection  of 
piety,  and  the  bigotry  which  environs  it,  and  turns 
off  from  religion  itself,  and  will   have   nothing  to 
do  with  it.      Philosophers  always  have  had  a  bad 
name   in   religious    matters;    many   of  them   have 
turned   away   in   disgust   from   the   folly  which   is 
taught  in  its  name.     Of  all  the  great  philosophers 
of  this  day,   I  think  no  one  takes   any  interest  in 
the    popular  forms   of  religion.     Do   we  ever  hear 
religion   referred   to  in    politics?      It  is  mentioned 
officially   in   proclamations   and   messages ;   but   in 
the  parliamentary  debates  of  Europe  and  America, 
in  the  State  papers  of  the  nations,  you  find  hardly 
a  trace  of  the  name  or  the  fact.     Honest  men  and 
manly  men  are  ashamed  to  refer  to  this,  because  it 
has  been  so  connected  with  unmanly  dawdling  and 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY.  23 

niggardly  turning  back,  —  they  dislike  to  mention 
the  word.  So  religion  has  ceased  to  be  one  of  the 
recognized  forces  of  the  State.  I  do  not  remember 
a  good  law  passed  in  my  time  from  an  alleged 
religious  motive.  Capital  punishment,  and  the  laws 
forbidding  work  or  play  on  Sunday,  are  the  only 
things  left  on  the  statute-book  for  which  a  strict- 
ly "religious  motive"  is  assigned!  The  annual 
thanksgivings  and  fast-days  are  mementos  of  the 
political  power  of  the  popular  religious  opinions 
in  other  times.  Men  of  great  influence  in  Amer- 
ica are  commonly  men  of  little  apparent  respect 
for  religion;  it  seems  to  have  no  influence  on  their 
public  conduct,  and,  in  many  cases,  none  on  their 
private  character ;  the  class  most  eminent  for  intel- 
lectual culture,  throughout  all  Christendom,  is  heed- 
less of  religion.  The  class  of  rich  men  has  small 
esteem  for  it ;  yet  in  all  the  great  towns  of  America 
the  most  reputable  churches  have  fallen  under  their 
control,  with  such  results  as  we  see.  The  life  of 
the  nation  in  its  great  flood  passes  by,  and  does 
not  touch  the  churches,  —  "the  institutions  of  re- 
ligion." Such  fatal  errors  come  from  this  mis- 
take. 

But  there  is  a  natural  form  of  piety.  The  natu- 
ral use  of  the  strength  of  a  strong  man,  or  the  wis- 
dom  of  a  wise  one,  is   to   the   work   of  a   strong 


24  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY. 

man  or  a  wise  one.  What  is  the  natural  work  of 
piety  ?  Obviously  it  is  practical  life ;  the  use  of  all 
the  faculties  in  their  proper  spheres,  and  for  their 
natural  function.  Love  of  God,  as  truth,  justice, 
love,  must  appear  in  a  life  marked  by  these  quali- 
ties ;  that  is  the  only  effectual  "  ordinance  of  re- 
ligion." A  profession  of  the  man's  convictions, 
joining  a  society,  assisting  at  a  ceremony,  —  all 
these  are  of  the  same  value  in  science  as  in  re- 
ligion ;  as  good  forms  of  chemistry  as  of  piety. 
The  natural  form  of  piety  is  goodness,  morality, 
living  a  true,  just,  affectionate,  self-faithful  life,  from 
the  motive  of  a  pious  man.  Real  piety,  love  of 
God,  if  left  to  itself,  assumes  the  form  of  real 
morality,  loyal  obedience  to  God's  law.  Thus  the 
power  of  religion  does  the  work  of  religion,  and  is 
not  merely  to  feed  itself. 

There  are  various  degrees  of  piety,  the  quality 
ever  the  same,  the  quantity  variable,  and  of  course 
various  degrees  of  goodness  as  the  result  thereof. 
"Where  there  is  but  little  piety,  the  work  of  good- 
ness is  done  as  a  duty,  under  coercion  as  it  were, 
with  only  the  voluntary,  not  the  spontaneous  will ; 
it  is  not  done  from  a  love  of  the  duty,  only  in  obe- 
dience to  a  law  of  God  felt  within  the  conscience 
or  the  soul,  a  law  which  bids  the  deed.  The 
man's  desires  and  duty  are  in  opposition,  not  con- 
junction;   but   duty  rules.     That  is   the   goodness 


THE   FOUKFOLD   FOKM   OF   PIETY.  25 

of  a  boy  in  religion,  the  common  goodness  of  the 
world. 

At  length  the  rising  man  shoots  above  this  rudi- 
mentary state,  has  an  increase  of  love  of  God,  and 
therefore  of  love  of  man;  his  goodness  is  spontane- 
ous, not  merely  enforced  by  volition.  He  does  the 
good  thing  which  comes  in  his  way,  and  because  it 
comes  in  his  way ;  is  true  to  his  mind,  his  con- 
science, heart,  and  soul,  and  feels  small  temptation 
to  do  to  others  what  he  would  not  receive  from 
them ;  he  will  deny  himself  for  the  sake  of  his 
brother  near  at  hand.  His  desire  attracts  in  the 
line  of  his  duty,  both  in  conjunction  now.  Not 
in  vain  does  the  poor,  the  oppressed,  the  hunted 
fugitive  look  up  to  him.  This  is  the  goodness  of 
men  well  grown  in  piety.  You  find  such  men 
in  all  Christian  sects,  Protestant  and  Catholic;  in 
all  the  great  religious  parties  of  the  civilized  world, 
among  Buddhists,  Mahometans,  and  Jews.  They 
are  kind  fathers,  generous  citizens,  unimpeachable 
in  their  business,  beautiful  in  their  daily  lives.  You 
see  the  man's  piety  in  his  work,  and  in  his  play. 
It  appears  in  all  the  forms  of  his  activity,  individual, 
domestic,  social,  ecclesiastic,  or  political. 

But  the  man  goes  on  in  his  growth  of  pietyy 
loving  truth,  justice,  love,  loving  God  the  more. 
What  is  piety  within  must  be  morality  without. 
The   quality   and   quantity   of    the    outward   must 

3 


26  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY. 

increase  as  the  quality  and  quantity  of  the  inward. 
So  his  eminent  piety  must  become  eminent  morality, 
which  is  philanthropy.  He  loves  not  only  his  kin- 
dred and  his  country,  but  all  mankind ;  not  only 
the  good,  but  also  the  evil.  He  has  more  good- 
ness than  the  channels  of  his  daily  life  will  hold. 
So  it  runs  over  the  banks,  to  water  and  to  feed 
a  thousand  thirsty  plants.  Not  content  with  the 
duty  that  lies  along  his  track,  he  goes  out  to  seek 
it;  not  only  willing,  he  has  a  salient  longing  to 
do  good,  to  spread  his  truth,  his  justice,  his  love, 
his  piety,  over  all  the  world.  His  daily  life  is  a  pro- 
fession of  his  conscious  piety  to  God,  published  in 
perpetual  good-will  to  men. 

This  is  the  natural  form  of  piety ;  one  which  it 
assumes  if  left  to  itself.  Not  more  naturally  does 
the  beaver  build,  or  the  blackbird  sing  her  own 
wild  gushing  melody,  than  the  man  of  real  piety 
lives  it  in  this  beautiful  outward  life.  So  from 
the  perennial  spring  wells  forth  the  stream  to 
quicken  the  meadow  with  new  access  of  green, 
and  perfect  beauty  bursting  into  bloom. 

Thus  piety  does  the  work  it  was  meant  to  do: 
the  man  does  not  sigh  and  weep,  and  make  grim- 
aces, for  ever  in  a  fuss  about  his  soul ;  he  lives 
right  on.  Is  his  life  marked  with  errors,  sins, — he 
ploughs  over  the  barren  spot  with  his  remorse,  sows 
with  new  seed,  and  the  old  desert  blossoms  like  a 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY.  27 

rose.  He  is  free  in  his  spiritual  life,  not  confined 
to  set  forms  of  thought,  of  action,  or  of  feeling. 
He  accepts  what  his  mind  regards  as  true,  what 
his  conscience  decides  is  right,  what  his  heart 
deems  lovely,  and  what  is  holy  to  his  soul ;  all  else 
he  puts  far  from  him.  Though  the  ancient  and 
the  honorable  of  the  earth  bid  him  bow  down  to 
them,  his  stubborn  knees  bend  only  at  the  bidding 
of  his  manly  soul.  His  piety  is  his  freedom  before 
God,  not  his  bondage  unto  men.  The  toys  and 
child's  stories  of  religion  are  to  him  toys  and  child's 
stories,  but  no  more.  No  baby-shoes  deform  his 
manly  feet. 

This  piety,  thus  left  to  obey  its  natural  law, 
keeps  in  sound  health,  and  grows  continually  more 
and  more.  Doing  his  task,  the  man  makes  no  more 
ado  about  his  soul  than  about  his  sense.  Yet 
it  grows  like  the  oak-tree.  He  gets  continually 
more  love  of  truth  and  right  and  justice,  more  love 
of  God,  and  so  more  love  of  man.  Every  faculty 
becomes  continually  more.  His  mind  acts  after 
the  universal  law  of  the  intellect,  his  conscience 
according  to  the  universal  moral  law,  his  affections 
and  his  soul  after  the  universal  law  thereof,  and 
so  he  is  strong  with  the  strength  of  God,  in 
this  fourfold  way  communicating  with  him.  With 
this  strengthening  of  the  moral  faculties  there  comes 
a  tranquillity,  a  calmness  and  repose,  which  nothing 


28  THE   FOURFOLD    FORM    OF   PIETY. 

else  can  give,  and  also  a  beauty  of  character  which 
you  vainly  seek  elsewhere.  When  a  man  has  the 
intellectual,  the  moral,  the  affectional  part  of  piety, 
when  he  unites  them  all  with  conscious  love  of 
God,  and  puts  that  manifold  piety  into  morality, 
his  eminent  piety  into  philanthropy,  he  attains 
the  highest  form  of  loveliness  which  belongs  to 
mortal  man.  His  is  the  palmy  loftiness  of  man,  — 
such  strength,  such  calmness,  and  such  transcendent 
loveliness  of  soul. 

I  know  some  men  mock  at  the  name  of  piety ; 
I  do  not  wonder  at  their  scoff;  for  it  has  been 
made  to  stand  as  the  symbol  of  littleness,  meanness, 
envy,  bigotry,  and  hypocritical  superstition  ;  for 
qualities  I  hate  to  name.  Of  what  is  popularly 
called  piety  there  is  no  lack  ;  it  is  abundant 
everywhere,  common  as  weeds  in  the  ditch,  and 
clogs  the  wheels  of  mankind  in  every  quarter  of 
the  world.  Yet  real  piety,  in  manly  quantity 
and  in  a  manly  form,  is  an  uncommon  thing.  It 
is  marvellous  what  other  wants  the  want  of  this 
brings  in :  look  over  the  long  list  of  brilliant  names 
that  glitter  in  English  history  for  the  past  three 
hundred  years,  study  their  aims,  their  outward  and 
their  inner  life ;  explore  the  causes  of  their  mani- 
fold defeat,  and  you  will  see  the  primal  curse 
of  all  these  men  was  lack  of  piety.     They  did  not 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY.  29 

love  truth,  justice,  or  love;  they  did  not  love  God 
with  all  their  mind  and  conscience,  heart  and  soul. 
Hence  came  the  failure  of  many  a  mighty-minded 
man.  Look  at  the  brilliant  array  of  distinguished 
talent  in  France  for  the  last  five  generations  ;  what 
intellectual  gifts,  what  understanding,  what  imagi- 
nation, what  reason,  but  with  it  all  what  corruption, 
what  waste  of  faculty,  what  lack  of  strong  and  calm 
and  holy  life,  in  these  great,  famous  men !  Their 
literature  seems  marvellously  like  the  thin,  cold 
dazzle  of  Northern  Lights  upon  the  wintry  ice.  In 
our  own  country  it  is  still  the  same  ;  the  high  intel- 
lectual gift  or  culture  is  ashamed  of  religion,  and 
flouts  at  God  ;  and  hence  the  faults  we  see. 

But  real  piety  is  what  we  need ;  we  need  much 
of  it, —  need  it  in  the  natural  form  thereof.  Ours 
is  an  age  of  great  activity.  The  peaceful  hand  was 
never  so  busy  as  to-day ;  the  productive  head  never 
created  so  fast  before.  See  how  the  forces  of  nature 
yield  themselves  up  to  man  :  the  river  stops  for  him, 
content  to  be  his  servant,  and  weave  and  spin ;  the 
ocean  is  his  vassal,  his  toilsome  bondsman ;  the 
lightning  stoops  out  of  heaven,  and  bears  thought- 
ful burdens  on  its  electric  track  from  town  to 
town.  All  this  comes  from  the  rapid  activity  of 
the  lower  intellect  of  man.  Is  there  a  conscious 
piety  to  correspond  with  this,  —  a  conscious  love 
of    truth   and   right   and   love,  —  a   love   of   God  ? 

3* 


30  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF   PIETY. 

Ask  the  State,  ask  the  church,  ask  society,  and  ask 
our  homes. 

The  age  requires  a  piety  most  eminent.  What 
was  religion  enough  for  the  time  of  the  Patriarchs, 
or  the  Prophets,  or  the  Apostles,  or  the  Reformers, 
or  the  Puritans,  is  not  enough  for  the  heightened 
consciousness  of  mankind  to-day.  When  the  world 
thinks  in  lightning,  it  is  not  proportionate  to  pray  in 
lead.  The  old  theologies,  the  philosophies  of  re- 
ligion of  ancient  times,  will  not  suffice  us  now. 
We  want  a  religion  of  the  intellect,  of  the  con- 
science, of  the  affections,  of  the  soul, —  the  natural 
religion  of  all  the  faculties  of  man.  The  form  also 
must  be  natural  and  new. 

We  want  this  natural  piety  in  the  form  of  normal 
human  life,  —  morality,  philanthropy.  Piety  is  not 
to  forsake,  but  possess  the  world;  not  to  become 
incarnate  in  a  nun  and  a  monk,  but  in  women  and 
in  men.  Here  are  the  duties  of  life  to  be  done. 
You  are  to  do  them,  do  them  religiously,  conscious- 
ly obedient  to  the  law  of  God,  not  atheistically, 
loving  only  your  selfish  gain.  Here  are  the  sins  of 
trade  to  be  corrected.  You  are  to  show  that  a  good 
merchant,  mechanic,  farmer,  doctor,  lawyer,  is  a  real 
saint,  a  saint  at  work.  Here  are  the  errors  of  phi- 
losophy, theology,  politics,  to  be  made  way  with. 
It  is  the  function  of  piety  to  abolish  these  and  sup- 
ply their  place  with  new  truths  all  radiant  with  God. 


THE   FOURFOLD   FORM    OF   PIETY.  31 

Here  are  the  great  evils  of  church  and  State,  of 
social  and  domestic  life,  wrongs  to  be  righted,  evils 
to  be  outgrown :  it  is  the  business  of  piety  to  mend 
all  this.  Ours  is  no  age  when  Religion  can  forsake 
the  broad  way  of  life.  In  the  public  street  must  she 
journey  on,  open  her  shop  in  the  crowded  square, 
and  teach  men  by  deeds,  her  life  more  eloquent  than 
any  lips.  Hers  is  not  now  the  voice  that  is  to  cry 
in  the  wilderness,  but  in  the  public  haunts  of  men 
must  she  call  them  to  make  straight  their  ways. 

We  must  possess  all  parts  of  this  piety,  —  the 
intellectual,  moral,  affectional,  —  yea,  total  piety. 
This  is  not  an  age  when  men  in  religion's  name 
can  safely  sneer  at  philosophy,  call  reason  "  carnal," 
make  mouths  at  immutable  justice,  and  blast  with 
their  damnation  the  faces  of  mankind.  Priests  have 
had  their  day,  and  in  dull  corners  still  aim  to  pro- 
tract their  favorite  and  most  ancient  night ;  but  the 
sun  has  risen  with  healing  in  his  wings.  Piety 
without  goodness,  without  justice,  without  truth  or 
love,  is  seen  to  be  the  pretence  of  the  hypocrite. 
Can  philosophy  satisfy  us  without  religion  ?  Even 
the  head  feels  a  coldness  from  the  want  of  piety. 
The  greatest  intellect  is  ruled  by  the  same  integral 
laws  with  the  least,  and  needs  this  fourfold  love  of 
God ;  and  the  great  intellects  that  scorn  religion  are 
largest  sufferers  from  their  scorn. 

Any  man  may  attain  this  piety ;  it  lies  level  to  all. 


32  THE   FOURFOLD   FORM   OF  PIETY. 

Yet  it  is  not  to  be  won  without  difficulty,  manly 
effort,  self-denial  of  the  low  for  the  sake  of  the  high- 
est in  us.  Of  you,  young  man,  young  maid,  it  will 
demand  both  prayer  and  toil.  Not  without  great 
efforts  are  great  heights  won.  In  your  period  of 
passion  you  must  subordinate  instinctive  desire  to 
your  reason,  your  conscience,  your  heart  and  soul ; 
the  lust  of  the  body  to  the  spirit's  love.  In  the 
period  of  ambition  you  must  coordinate  all  that  is 
personal  or  selfish  with  what  is  absolutely  true,  just, 
holy,  and  good.  Surely  this  will  demand  self-de- 
nial, now  of  instinctive  desire,  now  of  selfish  am- 
bition. Much  you  must  sacrifice.  But  you  will 
gain  the  possession,  the  use,  the  development,  and 
the  joy  of  your  own  mind  and  conscience,  heart  and 
soul.  You  will  never  sacrifice  truth,  justice,  holi- 
ness, or  love.  All  these  you  will  gain ;  gain  for 
to-day,  gain  for  ever.  What  inward  blessedness 
will  you  acquire !  what  strength,  what  tranquillity, 
what  loveliness,  what  joy  in  God !  You  will  have 
your  delight  in  Him ;  He  his  in  you.  Is  it  not 
worth  while  to  live  so  that  you  know  you  are  in 
unison  with  God ;  in  unison,  too,  with  men ;  in 
quantity  growing  more,  in  quality  superior  ?  Make 
the  trial  for  manly  excellence,  and  the  result  is 
yours,  for  time  and  for  eternity. 


II. 


OF   TRUTH  AND  THE  INTELLECT. 


BUT    THE    TRUTH,    AND    SELL    IT    NOT  J     ALSO    WISDOM,    AND     IN- 
STRUCTION,   AND     UNDERSTANDING. PlOV.  Xxiii.  23. 

Temperance  is  corporeal  piety ;  it  is  the  preser- 
vation of  divine  order  in  the  body.  It  is  the  har- 
mony of  all  the  members  thereof;  the  true  sym- 
metry and  right  proportion  of  part  with  part,  of  each 
with  all,  and  so  the  worship  of  God  with  every 
limb  of  the  body.  Wisdom  is  to  the  mind  what 
temperance,  in  this  sense,  is  to  the  body ;  it  is 
intellectual  piety ;  the  presence  of  divine  order  in 
the  mind;  the  harmony  of  all  the  faculties  thereof; 
the  true  symmetry  and  right  proportion  of  faculty 
with  faculty,  of  each  with  all.  It  is  a  general 
power  of  intellect,  which  may  turn  in  any  one 
or  in  all  directions ;  the  poet  is  a*  wise  man  in 
what  relates  to  poetry ;  the  philosopher,  the  states- 
man, the  man  of  business,  each  in  what  relates  to 
his  particular  function.     So  it  is  a  general  power  of 


34  TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

mind.  We  say  "  knowledge  is  power,"  but  mean 
wisdom,  which  is  general  intellectual  ability,  the 
power  of  knowing  and  of  using  truth. 

This  wisdom  implies  two  things :  the  love  of 
truth  as  truth,  which  I  spoke  of  the  other  day  as 
the  intellectual  side  of  piety;  and,  secondly,  the 
power  to  possess  and  use  this  truth,  either  in  the 
specific  form  which  is  sought  by  the  philosopher, 
poet,  statesman,  and  man  of  business,  or  else  in 
some  more  general  form  including  all  these ;  the 
power  of  getting  truth  either  by  the  mode  of  reflec- 
tion, as  truth  demonstrated,  or  by  the  mode  of  intui- 
tion, as  truth  seen  and  known  at  sight.  For  the 
acquisitive  part  of  wisdom  is  the  generic  power 
which  includes  both  the  specific  powers,  —  of  intui- 
tion and  of  reflection. 

Truth  is  the  object  which  corresponds  to  the 
mind.  As  the  eye  has  the  power  of  sight,  and  as 
the  special  things  we  see  are  the  object  of  the  eye, 
so  is  truth,  in  its  various  forms,  the  object  of  the 
mind.  If  a  man  keep  the  law  of  his  body,  in  the 
large  sense  of  the  word  Temperance,  he  acquires 
three  good  things,  health,  strength,  and  beauty. 
As  a  general  rule  these  three  will  come ;  there  are, 
indeed,  particular  and  personal  exceptions,  but  such 
is  the  rule.  Let  any  race  of  men,  say  the  New 
Englanders,  for  a  hundred  years  fulfil  all  the  con- 
ditions of  the  body,  and  observe  the  laws  thereof, 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  35 

they    will    become    distinguished    for    these    three 
things. 

In  like  manner,  if  a  man  keep  the  law  of  his 
mind,  and  fulfil  its  natural  conditions,  he  acquires 
wisdom,  —  acquires  intellectual  health,  strength,  and 
beauty.  Here  also  there  may  be  particular  and 
personal  exceptions,  but  such  is  the  rule.  Let 
any  race  of  men,  say  the  New  Englanders,  for  a 
hundred  years  fulfil  the  natural  condition  of  mind 
and  keep  the  law  thereof,  we  should  have  these 
three  qualities  to  a  greater  degree  than  the  ancient 
inhabitants  of  Athens,  long  regarded  as  the  most 
intellectual  race  in  the  world;  we  should  have  the 
quality  of  wisdom  which  they  had,  but  with  more 
intellectual  health,  strength,  and  loveliness,  more 
truth  and  more  power  to  use  it,  inasmuch  as  the 
human  race  has  acquired  a  greater  intellectual 
development  in  the  two  thousand  years  that  have 
passed  since  the  days  of  Aristotle  and  Alexander. 
The  laws  which  regulate  the  development  of  mind, 
in  the  individual  or  the  race,  are  as  certain  as  the 
laws  of  matter.  Observance  thereof  is  sure  to  bring 
certain  consequences  to  the  individual,  the  nation, 
and  mankind.  The  intellectual  peculiarity  of  a 
nation  is  transmitted  from  age  to  age,  and  only 
disappears  when  the  nation  perishes  or  mingles 
with  some  other  tribe  inferior  to  itself ;  then  it  does 
not  cease,  but  is  spread  more  thinly  over  a  wider 


36  TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT. 

field,  and  does  not  appear  in  its  ancient  form  for 
years  to  come.  Intellectual  talent  dies  out  of  a 
particular  family.  There  are  seldom  two  men  of 
genius  of  the  same  name.  Stuarts  and  Tudors, 
Guelphs  and  Bourbons,  there  are  in  abundance, 
but  only  one  Luther,  Shakspeare,  Milton,  Crom- 
well, Burns;  only  a  single  Franklin  or  Washington. 
But  the  intellectual  power  which  once  rose  up  in 
such  men  does  not  perish  from  the  race,  only  from 
the  special  family.  It  comes  up  in  other  names, 
for  the  fee  of  all  the  genius  that  is  born,  as  well 
as  the  achievements  won,  vests  perpetually  in  man- 
kind; not  in  the  special  family  which  holds  only 
its  life-estate  of  talent  under  the  race  and  of  it. 
The  wisdom  which  this  generation  shall  develop, 
foster,  and  mature,  will  not  perish  with  this  age ; 
it  will  be  added  to  the  spiritual  property  of  man- 
kind, and  go  down,  bequeathed  as  a  rich  legacy, 
to  such  as  come  after  us,  all  the  more  valuable 
because  it  is  given  in  perpetual  entail,  a  property 
which  does  not  waste,  but  greatens  in  the  use.  Yet 
probably  no  great  man  of  this  age  will  leave  a 
child  as  great  as  himself.  At  death  the  father's 
greatness  becomes  public  property  to  the  next  gen- 
eration. The  piety  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth  did  not 
die  out  of  mankind  when  he  gave  up  the  ghost ; 
the  second  century  had  more  of  Christ  than  the 
first;   there  has   been  a  perpetual  increase   of   So- 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  37 

cratic  excellence  ever  since  the  death  of  the  Athe- 
nian sage. 

This  is  a  remarkable  law  of  Providence,  but  a 
law  it  is ;  and  cheering  is  it  to  know  that  all  the 
good  qualities  you  give  example  of,  not  only  have 
a  personal  immortality  in  you  beyond  the  grave, 
but  a  national,  even  a  human,  immortality  on  earth, 
and,  while  they  bless  you  in  heaven,  are  likewise 
safely  invested  in  your  brother  man,  and  shall  go 
down  to  the  last  posterity,  blessing  your  nation 
and  all  mankind.  So  the  great  men  of  antiquity 
continue  to  help  us,  —  Moses,  Confucius,  Buddha, 
Zoroaster,  Pythagoras,  Socrates,  Plato,  —  not  to 
dwell  upon  the  name  dearest  of  all.  These  men 
and  their  fellows,  known  to  all  or  long  since  for- 
gotten of  mankind,  —  the  aristocracy  of  heaven, 
whose  patent  of  nobility  dates  direct  from  God, — 
they  added  to  the  spiritual  power  of  mankind. 
The  wisdom  they  inherited  or  acquired  was  a  per- 
sonal fief,  which  at  their  death  reverted  to  the 
human  race.  Not  a  poor  boy  in  Christendom,  not 
a  man  of  genius,  rejoicing  in  the  plenitude  of  power, 
but  is  greater  and  nobler  for  these  great  men ;  not 
barely  through  his  knowledge  of  their  example,  but 
because,  so  to  say,  they  raised  the  temperature  of 
the  human  world.  For,  as  there  is  a  physical  tem- 
perature of  the  interstellar  spaces,  betwixt  sun  and 
sun,  which  may  be  called  the   temperature  of  the 

4 


38  TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

universe,  so  is  there  a  spiritual  temperature  of  the 
interpersonal  spaces,  a  certain  common  temperature 
of  spirit,  not   barely   personal,   not  national  alone, 
but  human  and  of  the  race,  which  may  be  called 
the  temperature  of  mankind.     On  that  in   general 
we    all   depend,   as    on    our   family    in    special,    or 
in   particular    upon    our   personal    genius    and   our 
will.     Those  great  men  added  wisdom  to  mankind, 
brought  special  truths  to  consciousness,  which  now 
have  spread  throughout  the  enlightened  nations  of 
the  world,  and  penetrate   progressively  the  human 
mass,  giving  mankind   continual  new   power.     So 
shall  you  see  an   iron   bar  become  magnetic;  first 
it  was  a  single  atom  of  the   metal  which  caught 
the  electric  influence,  spark  by    spark ;    that   atom 
could  not  hold  the  subtile  fire,  whose  nature  was 
to  spread,  and  so  one  atom  gave  the  spark  to  the 
next,  and   soon   it  spread   through   the   whole,   till 
the  cold  iron,  which  before  seemed  dead   as  stone, 
is   all   magnetic,   acquires   new   powers,    and   itself 
can  hold  its  own,  yet  magnetize  a  thousand  bars 
if  rightly  placed. 

According  to  his  nature  man  loves  truth  with  a 
pure  and  disinterested  love,  the  strongest  intellec- 
tual affection.  The  healthy  eye  does  not  more 
naturally  turn  to  the  light,  than  the  honest  mind 
turns  toward  the  truth.     See  how  we  seek  after  it 


TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT.  39 

in  nature.  All  the  National  Academies,  Institutes, 
and  Royal  Societies  are  but  so  many  companies 
organized  for  the  pursuit  of  truth,  —  of  truth  chiefly 
in  some  outward  form,  materialized  in  the  visible 
world.  These  societies  propose  no  corporeal  benefit 
to  themselves,  none  to  the  human  race.  They  love 
each  truth  of  nature  for  its  own  fair  sake.  What 
is  the  pecuniary  value  of  the  satellites  of  Neptune 
to  us  ?  See  how  laborious  naturalists  ransack  the 
globe  to  learn  the  truths  writ  in  its  elements.  One 
goes  to  Florida  to  look  after  the  bones  of  a  masto- 
don, hid  in  a  bog  some  thousands  of  years  ago  ; 
another  curiously  collects  chips  of  stone  from  all 
the  ledges  of  the  world,  lives  and  moves  and  has 
his  being  in  the  infra-carboniferous  sandstones  and 
shales,  a  companion  of  fossil  plants  and  fossil  shells- 
This  crosses  land  and  ocean  to  study  the  herbage 
of  the  earth ;  that,  careless  of  ease  and  homefelt 
joys,  devotes  his  life  to  mosses  and  lichens,  which 
grow  unheeded  on  the  rocks ;  he  loves  them  as  if 
they  were  his  own  children,  yet  they  return  no 
corresponding  smile,  nor  can  he  eat  and  drink  of 
them.  How  the  astronomer  loves  to  learu  the  truth 
of  the  stars,  which  will  not  light  his  fire  nor  fill 
his  children's  hungry  mouths !  No  Inquisition  can 
stop  Galileo  in  his  starry  quest.  I  have  known  a 
miser  who  loved  money  above  all  things ;  for  this, 
would  sacrifice  reason,  conscience,  and  religion,  and 


40  TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT. 

break  affection's  bond ;  but  it  was  the  use  of  money 
that  was  loved,  with  a  mean  and  most  ignoble 
selfish  lust,  vulgarizing  and  depraving  the  man. 
The  true  disciple  of  science  loves  truth  far  more, 
with  a  disinterested  love;  will  endure  toil,  priva- 
tion, and  self-denial,  and  encounter  suffering,  for 
that.  This  love  of  truth  will  bless  the  lover  all 
his  days  ;  yet  when  he  brings  her  home,  his  fair- 
faced  bride,  she  comes  empty-handed  to  his  door, 
herself  her  only  dower. 

How  carefully  men  look  after  the  facts  of  human 
history !  how  they  study  the  tragic  tale  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  and  explore  the  remains  of  nations  that 
long  since  have  perished  from  the  earth !  Of  what 
material  consequence  is  it  to  us  who  composed 
the  Iliad,  twenty-five  hundred  years  ago,  or  whether 
Homer  wrote,  or  only  sung,  his  never-dying  song? 
Yet  what  a  mass  of  literature  has  come  into  being 
within  the  last  sixty  years  to  settle  these  two  ques- 
tions !  How  the  famous  scholars  light  their  lamps 
and  dim  their  eyes  over  this  work,  and  how  the 
world  rejoices  in  their  books,  which  will  not  bake 
bread,  nor  make  two  blades  of  grass  grow  where 
only  one  rose  up  before ;  which  will  not  build  a 
railroad,  nor  elect  a  president,  nor  give  a  man  an 
office  in  any  custom-house  of  the  wide  world ! 
There  is  a  deep  love  of  truth  in  men,  even  in 
these  poor  details.  A  natural  king  looks  royal  at 
the  plough. 


TRUTH    AND    THE    INTELLECT.  41 

How  men  study  yet  higher  modes  of  truth,  writ 
in  the  facts  of  human  consciousness !  How  the 
ablest  men  have  worked  at  the  severest  forms  of 
intellectual  toil,  yet  proposing  no  gain  to  them- 
selves, only  the  glorious  godliness  of  truth!  A 
corporeal  gain  to  men  does  come  from  every  such 
truth.  There  is  such  a  solidarity  betwixt  the  mind 
and  body,  that  each  spiritual  truth  works  welfare 
in  the  material  world,  and  the  most  abstract  of 
ideas  becomes  concrete  in  the  widest  universe  of 
welfare.  But  philosophers  love  the  truth  before 
they  learn  its  material  use.  Aristotle,  making  an 
exhaustive  analysis  of  the  mind  of  man,  did  not 
design  to  build  a  commonwealth  in  New  England, 
and  set  up  public  schools. 

This  love  of  truth,  instinctive  and  reflective  both, 
is  so  powerful  in  human  nature,  that  mankind 
will  not  rest  till  we  have  an  idea  corresponding 
to  every  fact  of  Nature  and  of  human  conscious- 
ness, and  the  contents  of  the  universe  are  repeated 
in  the  cosmic  mind  of  man,  which  grasps  the 
whole  of  things.  The  philosophic  work  of  obser- 
vation, analysis,  and  synthesis,  will  not  be  over, 
till  the  whole  world  of  material  nature  is  com- 
prehended by  the  world  of  human  nature.  Such 
is  our  love,  not  only  of  special  truths,  but  of  total 
truth. 

Consider  what   an   apparatus   man   has  devised 

4* 


42  TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

to  aid  the  search  for  truth :  not  only  visible  tools 
to  magnify  the  little  and  bring  near  us  the  remote, 
but  the  invisible  weapons  of  the  mind,  —  mathe- 
matics and  the  various  sciences,  the  mining-tools 
with  which  we  dig  for  truth,  —  logic,  the  Lydian 
stone  to  test  the  true,  —  rhetoric,  the  art  to  com- 
municate,—  language,  speech  itself,  the  most  amaz- 
ing weapon  of  the  human  mind,  an  instrument 
half  made  on  purpose,  and  half  given  without  our 
thought. 

This  love  of  truth  is  the  natural  and  instinctive 
piety  of  the  mind.  In  studying  the  facts  of  nature, 
material  or  human,  I  study  the  thought  of  God ; 
for  in  the  world  of  real  things  a  fact  is  the 
direct  speech  of  the  Father.  Words  make  up  the 
language  of  men ;  facts  and  ideas  are  the  words 
of  God,  his  universal  language  to  the  Englishman 
and  the  Chinese,  in  which  He  speaks  from  all 
eternity  to  all  time.  Man  made  "  in  the  image  of 
God"  loves  his  Father's  thought,  and  is  not  con- 
tented till  he  hears  that  speech;  then  he  is  satis- 
fied. All  intellectual  error  is  but  the  babble  of  the 
baby-man.  Every  truth  which  I  know  is  one  point 
common  to  my  consciousness  and  the  consciousness 
of  God;  in  this  we  approach,  and,  so  far  as  that 
goes,  God's  thought  is  my  thought,  and  we  are 
at  one.  Mankind  will  not  be  content  till  we  also 
are  conscious  of  the  universe,  and   have    mastered 


TRUTH    AND    THE    INTELLECT.  43 

this  Bible  of  God  writ  in  the  material  world,  a  per- 
petual lesson  for  the  day. 

I  cannot  think  we  value  wisdom  high  enough ; 
not  in  proportion  to  other  things  for  more  vulgar 
use.  We  prize  the  material  results  of  wisdom 
more  than  the  cause  which  produces  them.  Let 
us  not  undervalue  the  use.  What  is  it  which 
gives  Christendom  its  rank  in  the  world  ?  What 
gives  Old  England  or  New  England  her  material 
delight,  —  our  comfortable  homes,  our  mills  and 
ships  and  shops,  these  iron  roads  which  so  cover 
the  land  ?  It  is  not  the  soil,  hard  and  ungrateful ; 
not  the  sky,  cold  and  stormy  half  the  year;  it  is 
the  educated  mind,  the  practical  wisdom  of  the 
people.  The  Italian  has  his  sunnier  sky,  his  la- 
bored land,  which  teems  with  the  cultured  luxuri- 
ance of  three  thousand  years.  Our  outfit  was  the 
wilderness  and  our  head.  God  gave  us  these,  and 
said,  "  Subdue  the  earth ; "  and  we  have  toiled  at 
the  problem,  not  quite  in  vain.  The  mind  is  a 
universal  tool,  the  abstract  of  all  instruments ;  it 
concretizes  itself  in  the  past  present  and  future 
weapons  of  mankind. 

We  value  wisdom  chiefly  for  its  practical  use,  as 
the  convenience  of  a  weapon,  not  the  function  of 
a  limb ;  and  truth  as  a  servant,  not  a  bride.  The 
reason  of  this  seeming  falseness  to  the  intellectual 


44  TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT. 

instinct  is  found  partly  in  the  low  development 
of  man,  —  the  external  precedes  the  spiritual  in 
order  of  unfolding,  —  and  partly  in  this,  that  the 
human  race  is  still  too  poor  to  indulge  in  merely 
intellectual  delights,  while  material  wants  are  not 
yet  satisfied.  Mankind  rejoices  in  rough  aprons 
of  camel's  hair,  and  feeds  on  locusts  and  wild 
honey,  before  there  is  purple  and  fine  linen  for  all, 
with  sumptuous  faring  every  day.  Even  now  a 
fourth  part  of  the  human  family  is  as  good  as 
naked.  It  is  too  soon  to  ask  men  to  rejoice  ex- 
clusively in  the  beauty  of  wisdom,  when  they  need 
its  convenience  so  much.  Let  us  not  be  too  severe 
in  our  demands  of  men.  God  "  suffereth  long,  and 
is  kind." 

Then,  sour  theologies  confront  us,  calling  wisdom 
"foolish,"  reason  "carnal,"  scoffing  at  science  with 
a  priestly  sneer,  as  if  knowledge  of  God,  of  God's 
world,  and  of  its  laws,  could  disturb  the  natural 
service  of  God.  We  are  warned  against  the  "  arro- 
gance of  the  philosopher,"  but  by  the  arrogance  • 
of  the  priest.  We  are  told  to  shun  "the  pride 
of  wisdom ; "  alas !  it  is  sometimes  the  pride  of 
folly  which  gives  the  caution. 

It  seems  to  me,  that  the j value  of  the  intellect 
is  a  little  underrated  by  some  writers  in  the  New 
Testament,  and  wisdom  sometimes  turned  off  rather 
rudely.      Perhaps    the    reason   was,   that   then,   as 


TRUTH   AND   THE    INTELLECT.  45 

now,  men  often  cultivated  the  mind  alone,  and 
not  the  highest  faculties  of  that;  and,  though  ever 
learning,  never  hit  the  truth.  Doubtless  men  of 
accomplished  mind  and  manners  sneered  at  the  rude- 
ness of  the  Galilean,  and  with  their  demonstrations 
sought  to  parry  the  keen  intuitions  of  great-souled 
men.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  that  James 
attacked  the  rich,  and  Paul  the  learned,  of  their 
time.  Fox  and  Bunyan  did  the  same.  Many  a 
Christian  Father  has  mocked  at  all  generous  culture 
of  the  mind.  Even  now,  with  us,  amongst  men 
desiring  to  be  religious,  there  is  an  inherited  fear 
of  reason  and  of  common  sense.  Science  is  thought 
a  bad  companion  for  religion.  Men  are  cautioned 
against  "  free  thinking "  in  religion,  and,  as  all 
thinking  must  be  free,  against  all  thinking  in  that 
quarter.  Even  common  sense  is  thought  danger- 
ous. Men  in  pews  are  a  little  afraid,  when  a 
strong  man  goes  into  the  pulpit,  lest  he  should 
shake  the  ill-bottomed  fabric  to  the  ground ;  men 
in  pulpits  are.  still  more  fearful.  It  is  a  strange 
fear,  that  the  mind  should  drive  the  soul  out  of  us, 
and  our  knowledge  of  God  annihilate  our  love  of 
God.  Yet  some  earnest  men  quake  with  this  panic 
terror,  and  think  it  is  not  quite  safe  to  follow  the 
records  writ,  in  the  great  Bible  of  Nature,  its  world- 
wide leaves  laid  open  before  us,  with  their  "  millions 
of  surprises." 


46  TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

Let  me  say  a  word  in  behalf  of  the  largest  cul- 
ture of  the  intellect,  of  all  faculties  thereof, — under- 
standing, imagination,  reason.  I  admit  there  have 
been  men  of  able  mind  and  large  intellectual  de- 
velopment who  have  turned  off  from  religion,  their 
science  driving  them  away  from  the  doctrines  taught 
in  this  name.  But  such  men  have  been  few.  Did 
they  oppose  the  truths  of  religion  ?  Oftener  the 
follies  taught  in  its  name.  All  the  attacks  made 
on  religion  itself  by  men  of  science,  from  Celsus 
to  Feuerbach,  have  not  done  so  much  to  bring 
religion  into  contempt  as  a  single  persecution  for 
witchcraft,  or  a  Bartholomew  massacre,  made  in 
the  name  of  God.  At  this  day,  in  America,  the 
greatest  argument  against  the  popular  form  of 
religion  is  offered  by  the  churches  of  the  land, 
a  twofold  argument  :  first,  the  follies  taught  as 
religious  doctrine,  the  character  assigned  to  God, 
the  mode  of  government  ascribed  to  him,  both 
here  and  hereafter,  the  absurdities  and  impossi- 
bilities taught  as  the  history  of  God's  dealing 
with  mankind  ;  next,  the  actual  character  of  these 
churches,  as  a  body  never  rebuking  a  popular  and 
profitable  sin,  but  striking  hands  by  turns  with 
every  popular  form  of  wrong.  Men  of  science,  as 
a  class,  do  not  war  on  the  truths,  the  goodness,  and 
the  piety  that  are  taught  as  religion,  only  on  the 
errors,  the   evil,  the  impiety,  which   bear  its  name. 


TRUTH    AND    THE    INTELLECT.  47 

Science  is  the  natural  ally  of  religion.  Shall  we 
try  and  separate  what  God  has  joined?  We  injure 
both  by  the  attempt.  The  philosophers  of  this 
age  have  a  profound  love  of  truth,  and  show 
great  industry  and  boldness  in  search  thereof.  In 
the  name  of  truth  they  pluck  down  the  strong-holds 
of  error,  venerable  and  old.  But  what  a  cry  has 
been  raised  against  them!  It  was  pretended  that 
they  would  root  out  religion  from  the  hearts  of 
mankind !  It  seems  to  me  it  would  be  better  for 
men  who  love  religion  to  understand  philosophy 
before  they  declaim  against  "  the  impiety  of  modern 
science."  The  study  of  Nature,  of  human  history, 
or  of  human  nature  might  be  a  little  more  profit- 
able than  the  habit  of  "  hawking  at  geology  and 
schism/'  A  true  philosophy  is  the  only  cure  for 
a  false  philosophy.  The  sensational  scheme  of 
philosophy  has  done  a  world  of  harm,  it  seems  to 
me,  in  its  long  history  from  Epicurus  to  Comte ; 
but  no-philosophy  would  be  far  worse.  The  abne- 
gation of  mind  must  be  the  abnegation  of  God. 
The  systems  built  by  priests,  who  deemed  reason 
not  fit  to  trust,  are  more  dangerous  than  "  infidel 
science."  Those  have  been  found  sad  periods  of 
time,  when  the  ablest  men  were  forced  to  spend 
their  strength  in  pulling  down  the  monstrous  pa- 
godas built  in  the  name  of  religion,  full  of  idols 
and   instruments  of  torture.      Epicurus,    Lucretius, 


48  TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

Voltaire,  even  Hobbes  and  Hume,  performed  a 
work  indispensable  to  the  religious  development 
of  mankind.  Yet  destruction  is  a  sad  work; — set 
your  old  house  afire,  you  do  not  know  how  much 
of  it  will  burn  down.  It  was  the  ignorance,  the 
folly,  the  arrogance,  and  the  tyranny  of  a  priest- 
hood which  made  necessary  the  scoff  of  Lucian  and 
the  haughty  scorn  of  D'Holbach.  The  science  of 
philosophers  cannot  be  met  by  the  ignorance  of  the 
priests ;  the  pride  of  wisdom  is  more  than  a  match 
for  the  pride  of  folly;  the  philosophy  of  an  unwel- 
come demonstration  is  ill  answered  by  the  preach- 
ing of  foolishness.  How  can  a  needle's  eye  em- 
brace a  continent  ?  In  the  name  of  religion,  I 
would  call  for  the  spirit  of  wisdom  without  meas- 
ure ;  have  free  thinking  on  the  Bible,  on  the 
Church,  on  God  and  man,  —  the  largest  liberty  of 
the  intellect.  I  would  sooner  have  an  unreasonable 
form  of  agriculture  than  of  religion.  The  state  of 
religion  is  always  dependent,  in  a  good  measure, 
on  the  mental  culture  of  mankind.  A  foolish  man 
cannot  give  you  a  wise  form  of  piety.  All  men 
by  nature  love  truth.  Cultivate  their  mind,  they 
will  see  it,  know  it,  value  it.  Just  now  we  need  a 
large  development  of  mind  in  the  clergy,  who  fall 
behind  the  men  of  leading  intellect  in  England, 
America,  and  France.  Thinking  men  care  little 
for   the   "  opinions   of    the   clergy,"    except   on   the 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  49 

mere  formalities  of  a  ritual  and  church-show.  De- 
pend upon  it,  the  effect  will  be  even  more  baneful 
for  the  future  than  at  present. 

I  love  to  look  on  the  wise  mind  as  one  means 
of  holding  communion  with  the  Infinite  God ;  for 
I  believe  that  He  inspires  men,  not  only  through  the 
conscience,  the  affections,  and  the  soul,  but  also 
through  the  intellect  —  through  the  reason,  imagina- 
tion, and  understanding.  But  he  does  this,  not 
arbitrarily,  miraculously,  against  the  nature  of  the 
mind,  but  by  a  mode  of  operation  as  constant  as 
the  gravitation  of  planets  or  the  chemical  attrac- 
tion of  atoms  of  metal.  Yet  I  do  not  find  that  He 
inspires  thoughtless  men  with  truth,  more  than 
malicious  men  with  love.  Tell  me  God  inspired 
the  Hebrew  saints  with  wisdom,  filled  the  vast  urns 
of  Moses  and  of  Jesus  ;  I  believe  it,  but  not  Hebrew 
saints  alone.  The  Grecian  saints,  the  saints  of 
Rome,  of  Germany,  of  France,  of  either  England, 
Old  or  New;  all  the  sons  of  men  hang  on  the 
breasts  of  Heaven,  and  draw  inspiration  from  Him 
"  in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being." 
Intellectual  inspiration  comes  in  the  form  of  truth, 
but  the  income  from  God  is  proportionate  to  the 
wisdom  which  seeks  and  so  receives.  A  mind 
small  as  a  thimble  may  be  filled  full  thereof,  but 
will  it  receive  as  much  as  a  mind  whose  ocean- 
bosom    is   thirsty   for   a  whole    heaven   of    truth? 

5 


50  TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT. 

Bring  larger  intellect,  and  you  have  the  more.  A 
drop  would  overflow  a  hollow  cherry-stone,  while 
whole  Mediterranean  Seas  fill  but  a  fraction  of  the 
Atlantic's  mighty  deep.  There  still  is  truth  in  the 
sweet  heaven,  near  and  waiting  for  mankind.  A 
man  of  little  mind  can  only  take  in  the  contents  of 
his  primer ;  he  should  not  censure  his  neighbor  whose 
encyclopedic  head  dines  on  the  science  of  mankind, 
and  still  wanders  crying  for  lack  of  meat. 

How  mankind  loves  the  truth !     We  will  not  let 
it  go; 

"  One  accent  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
The  heedless  world  hath  never  lost ;" 

so  native  is  it  to  the  mind  of  man.  Look  on  the 
power  of  a  special  truth,  a  great  idea;  view  it 
merely  as  a  force  in  the  world  of  men.  At  first, 
nothing  seems  so  impotent.  It  has  no  hands  nor 
feet ;  how  can  it  go  alone  ?  It  seems  as  if  the 
censor  of  the  press  could  blot  it  out  for  ever.  It 
flatters  no  man,  offers  to  serve  no  personal  and 
private  interest  and  then  forbear  its  work,  will  be 
no  man's  slave.  It  seems  ready  to  perish;  surely 
it  will  give  up  the  ghost  the  next  moment.  There 
now,  a  priest  has  it  in  the  dust  and  stamps  it  out! 
O  idle  fear!  stamp  on  the  lightning  of  the  sky! 
Of  all  things  truth  is  the  most  lasting;  invulnerable 
as   God ;    "  of   the   Eternal   coeternal  beam,"  shall 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  51 

we  call  it  an  accident  of  his  being,  or  rather  sub- 
stance of  the  substance  of  God,  inseparable  from 
Him  ?  The  pyramids  may  fall,  in  ages  of  time 
the  granite  be  crumbled  into  dust  and  blown  off 
by  the  sirocco  of  the  wilderness ;  the  very  moun- 
tains, whence  they  first  were  hewn,  may  all  vanish, 
evaporate  to  the  sky  and  spread  over  the  world  ; 
but  truth  shall  still  remain,  immortal,  unchang- 
ing, and  not  growing  old.  Heaven  and  earth  may 
pass  away,  but  a  truth  never.  A  true  word  can- 
not fail  from  amongst  men;  it  is  indorsed  by 
the  Almighty,  and  shall  pass  current  with  man- 
kind for  ever.  Could  the  armies  of  the  world  alter 
the  smallest  truth  of  mathematics;  make  one  and 
one  greater  or  less  than  two  ?  As  easily  as  they 
can  alter  any  truth,  or  any  falsehood,  in  morals, 
in  politics,  or  in  religion.  A  lie  is  still  a  lie,  a  truth 
a  truth. 

See  the  power  of  some  special  truth  upon  a  sin- 
gle man.  Take  an  example  from  a  high  mode  of 
truth,  a  truth  of  religion.  Saul  of  Tarsus  sees  that 
God  loves  the  Gentile  as  well  as  the  Jew.  It 
seems  a  small  thing  to  see  that.  "Why  did  men 
ever  think  otherwise?  Why  should  not  God  love 
the  Gentile  as  well  as  the  Jew  ?  It  was  impossi- 
ble that  He  should  do  otherwise.  Yet  this  seemed 
a  great  truth  at  that  time,  the  Christian  Church 
dividing  upon  that  matter.     It  burnt  in  the  bosom 


52  TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT. 

of  Paul  of  Tarsus,  then  a  young  man.  What 
heroism  it  wakens  in  him !  what  self-denial  he  can 
endure !  Want,  hardships,  persecution,  the  con- 
tempt and  loathing  of  his  companions  and  former 
friends,  shipwreck,  scourging,  prison,  death,  —  all 
these  are  nothing  to  him.  A  truth  has  inspired 
him ;  he  is  eloquent  with  its  new  force,  his  letters 
powerful.  Go  where  he  will  he  finds  foes,  the 
world  bristling  with  peril ;  but  go  where  he  may 
he  makes  friends,  makes  them  by  this  truth  and 
the  heroism  it  awoke  in  him.  Men  saw  the  new 
doctrine,  and  looked  back  on  the  old  error,  —  that 
Jove  loved  Rome,  Pallas  Athens,  Juno  Samos  and 
Carthage  most  of  all,  Jehovah  Mount  Zion,  and 
Baal  his  Tyrian  towns ;  that  each  several  deity 
looked  grim  at  all  the  rest  of  men,  and  so  must 
have  his  own  forms  and  ceremonies,  unwelcome 
to  the  rest.  Men  see  this  is  an  error  now ;  they 
see  the  evil  which  came  thereof,  —  the  wars  and 
ages  full  of  strife,  national  jealousies,  wrangling 
betwixt  Babylonian  or  Theban  priests,  and  the 
antagonism  of  the  Gentile  and  the  Jew.  Now  all  are 
':  one  in  Christ."  They  bless  the  lips  which  taught 
the  doctrine  and  brought  them  freedom  by  the 
truth.  Meantime  the  truth  uplifts  the  Apostle ;  his 
mind  expands,  his  conscience  works  more  freely 
than  before,  no  longer  burdened  with  a  law  of 
sin  and  death.     His  affections  have  a  wider  range, 


TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT.  53 

knowing  no  man  after  his  national  flesh.  His  sonl 
has  a  better  prospect  of  God,  now  the  partition- 
wall  between  the  Jew  and  Gentile  is  thrown  clown. 

We  often  estimate  the  value  of  a  nation  by  the 
truths  it  brings  to  light.  To  take  the  physical 
census,  and  know  how  many  shall  vote,  we  count 
the  heads,  and  tell  men  off  by  millions,  —  so  many 
square  miles  of  Russians,  Tartars,  or  Chinese. 
But  to  take  the  spiritual  census,  and  see  what 
will  be  voted,  you  count  the  thoughts,  tell  off  the 
great  men,  enumerate  the  truths.  The  nations  may 
perish,  the  barbarian  sweep  over  Thebes,  the  lovely 
places  of  Jerusalem  become  a  standing  pool,  and 
the  favorite  spot  of  Socrates  and  Aristotle  be  grown 
up  to  brambles,  —  yet  Egypt,  Judea,  Athens,  do 
not  die ;  their  truths  live  on,  refusing  death,  and 
still  these  names  are  of  a  classic  land.  I  do  not 
think  that  God  loves  the  men  or  the  nations  He 
visits  with  this  lofty  destiny  better  than  He  loves 
other  ruder  tribes  or  ruder  men :  but  it  is  by  this 
standard  that  we  estimate  the  nations ;  a  few  truths 
make  them  immortal. 

A  great  truth  does  not  disdain  to  ride  on  so  hum- 
ble a  beast  as  interest.  Thus  ideas  go  abroad  in 
the  ships  of  the  desert,  or  the  ships  of  the  sea. 
Some  nations,  like  the  English  and  others,  seem 
to  like  this  equipage  the  best,  and  love  to  handle 
and  taste   a   truth   in   the   most  concrete  form ;  so 

5* 


54  TRUTH   AND   THE  INTELLECT. 

great  truths  are  seen  and  welcomed  as  political 
economy  before  they  are  thought  of  as  part  of 
political  morality,  human  affection,  and  cosmic  piety. 
All  the  great  truths  of  political  science  seem  to  have 
been  brought  to  the  consciousness  of  men  stimu- 
lated  by  fear,  or  by  love  of  the  results  of  the  truth, 
not  of  itself.  Nations  have  sometimes  adopted 
their  ideal  children  only  for  the  practical  value 
of  the  dress  they  wore ;  but  the  great  Providence 
of  the  Father  sent  the  truth  as  they  were  able 
to  bear  it.  So  earthly  mothers  sometimes  teach 
the  alphabet  to  their  children  in  letters  of  sugar, 
eaten  as  soon  as  learned. 

But   even   with  us  it  is  not  always  so.     In  our 
own  day  we  have  seen  a  man  possessed  with  this 
great   idea,  —  that   every  man   has    a   right   to   his 
own   body  and   soul,   and  consequently  that   it   is 
wrong  to  hold  an  innocent  man  in  bondage ;  that 
no  custom,  no  law,  no  constitution,  no  private  or 
national  interest,  can  justify  the  deed ;  nothing  on 
earth,    nothing   beneath   it   or   above.      He   applies 
this  to  American   slavery.     Here   is   a   conflict  be- 
tween an  acknowledged  truth  and  what  is  thought 
a   national   interest.      What   an   influence   did   the 
idea  have  on  the  man  !     It  enlarged  him,  and  made 
him   powerful,    opened   the    eye   of  his    conscience 
to   the    hundred-headed    injustice   in   the    Lernaean 
Marsh  of  modern  society ;    widened  his  affections, 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  55 

till  his  heart  prayed,  ay,  and  his  hands,  for  the 
poor  negro  in  the  Southern  swamps,  —  for  all  the 
oppressed.  It  touched  and  wakened  up  his  soul, 
till  he  felt  a  manly  piety  in  place  of  what  might 
else  have  been  a  puny  sentimentalism,  mewling 
and  whining  in  the  Church's  arms.  The  idea  goes 
abroad,  sure  to  conquer. 

See  how  a  great  idea,  a  truth  of  morals  or  relig- 
ion, has  an  influence  on  masses  of  men.  Some 
single  man  sees  it  first,  dimly  for  a  long  time, 
without  sight  enough  to  make  it  clear,  the  quality 
of  vision  better  than  his  quantity  of  sight.  Then 
he  sees  it  clearly  and  in  distinct  outline.  The  truth 
burns  mightily  within  him,  and  he  cannot  be  still ; 
he  tells  it,  now  to  one,  then  to  another;  at  each 
time  of  telling  he  gets  his  lesson  better  learned. 
Other  men  see  the  idea,  dimly  at  first  as  he. 
It  wakens  a  love  for  itself;  first,  perhaps,  in  the 
recipient  heart  of  some  woman,  waiting  for  the 
consolation.  Then  a  few  minds  prepared  for  the 
idea  half  welcome  it  ;  thence  it  timidly  flashes 
into  other  minds,  as  light  reflected  from  the  water. 
Soon  the  like-minded  meet  together  to  sun  them- 
selves in  one  another's  prayers.  They  form  a  family 
of  the  faith,  and  grow  strong  in  their  companion- 
ship. The  circle  grows  wider.  Men  oppose  the 
new  idea,  with  little  skill  or  much,  sometimes  with 
violence,   or   only   with   intellect.      Then   comes   a 


56  TRUTH"  AND  THE  INTELLECT. 

little  pause,  —  the  ablest  representatives  of  the  truth 
must  get  fully  conscious  of  their  truth,  and  of 
their  relation  to  the  world ;  a  process  like  that  in 
the  growing  corn  of  summer,  which  in  hot  days 
spindles,  as  the  farmers  say,  but  in  cool  nights 
gets  thick,  and  has  a  green  and  stocky  growth. 
The  interruptions  to  a  great  idea  are  of  correspond- 
ing value  to  its  development  in  a  man,  or  a  nation, 
or  the  world.  Oar  men  baptized  with  a  new  idea 
pause  and  reflect  to  be  more  sure,  —  perfecting  the 
logic  of  their  thought ;  pause  and  devise  their  mode 
to  set  it  forth,  —  perfecting  their  rhetoric,  and  seek 
to  organize  it  in  an  outward  form,  for  every  thought 
must  be  a  thing.  Then  they  tell  their  idea  more 
perfectly ;  in  the  controversy  that  follows,  errors 
connected  with  it  get  exposed ;  all  that  is  merely 
accidental,  national,  or  personal  gets  shaken  off, 
and  the  pure  truth  goes  forth  to  conquer.  In 
this  way  all  the  great  ideas  of  religion,  of  phi- 
lanthropy, have  gone  their  round.  Yet  every  new 
truth  of  morals  or  religion  which  blesses  the  world 
conflicts  with  old  notions,  binds  a  new  burden 
on  the  men  who  first  accept  it ;  demands  of 
them  to  lay  aside  old  comforts,  accept  a  hard 
name,  endure  the  coldness  of  their  friends,  and 
feel  the  iron  of  the  world.  What  a  rough  wind 
winnowed  the  early  Christians  and  the  Quakers ! 
They   bear    all    that,    and    still  the  truth  goes  on. 


TRUTII  AND  THE  INTELLECT.  57 

Soon  it  has  philosophers  to  explain  it,  apologists 
to  defend  it,  orators  to  set  it  forth,  institutions 
to  embody  its  sacred  life.  It  is  a  new  force  in 
the  world,  and  nothing  can  dislodge  or  withstand 
it.  It  was  in  this  way  that  the  ideas  of  Chris- 
tianity got  a  footing  in  the  world.  Between  the 
enthusiasm  of  Peter  and  James  at  the  Pentecost, 
and  the  cool  demonstrations  of  Clarke  and  Schleier- 
macher,  what  a  world  of  experience  there  lay ! 

Some  four  hundred  years  ago  this  truth  began 
to  be  distinctly  seen  :  Man  has  natural  empire 
over  all  institutions ;  they  are  for  him,  accidents 
of  his  development,  not  he  for  them.  That  is  a 
very  simple  statement,  each  of  you  assents  to  it. 
But  once  it  was  a  great  new  truth.  See  what  it 
has  led  to.  Martin  Luther  dimly  saw  its  applica- 
tion to  the  Catholic  Church,  the  institution  that 
long  had  ruled  over  the  souls  of  men.  The  Church 
gave  way  and  recoiled  before  the  tide  of  truth. 
That  helpless  truth,  —  see  what  it  has  done,  what 
millions  it  has  inspired,  what  institutions  it  has 
built,  what  men  called  into  life !  By  and  by  men 
saw  its  application  to  the  despotic  state  which  long 
had  ruled  over  the  bodies  and  souls  of  men.  Revo- 
lutions followed  thick  and  fast  in  Holland,  Eng- 
land, America,  and  France,  and  one  day  all  Europe 
and  the  world  will  be  ablaze  with  that  idea.  Men 
opposed ;   one  of  the    Stuarts    said,   "  It   shall   not 


58  TRUTH  AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

cross  the  four  seas  of  England;"  but  it  crossed 
the  Stuart's  neck,  and  drove  his  children  from  the 
faithful  soil.  It  came  to  America,  that  idea  so 
destructive  at  first,  destined  to  be  so  creative  and 
conservative.  It  brought  our  fathers  here,  grim 
and  bearded  men,  full  of  the  fear  of  God  ;  they 
little  knew  what  fruit  would  come  of  their  planting. 
See  the  institutions  which  have  sprung  up  on  the 
soil  then '  cumbered  by  a  wilderness,  and  hideous 
with  wild  beasts  and  wilder  men.  See  what  new 
ideas  blossomed  out  of  the  old  truth :  All  men  have 
natural,  equal,  and  unalienable  rights  to  life,  liberty, 
and  the  pursuit  of  happiness;  —  that  was  a  new 
flower  from  the  old-  stem.  See  the  one-and-thirty 
States  which  have  sprung  up  under  the  shadow 
of  this  great  idea. 

That  truth  long  since  recognized  as  true,  now 
proved  expedient  by  experiment,  goes  back  over 
the  sea,  following  the  track  the  Mayflower  broke, 
and  earnest  nations  welcome  it  to  their  bosom, 
that  sovereign  truth  :  Man  is  supreme  over  institu- 
tions, not  they  over  him.  How  it  has  thundered 
and  lightened  over  Europe  in  the  last  few  years ! 
It  will  beat  to  the  dust  many  a  godless  throne,  and 
the  palm  of  peace  shall  occupy  the  ground  once 
reserved  for  soldiers'  feet;  here  and  there  a  city 
ditch  of  defence  has  already  become  a  garden  for 
the  town. 


TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT.  59 

Here  in  America,  men  full  of  this  truth  rise  up 
against  ungodly  customers,  now  become  a  law,  and 
under  this  demand  the  freedom  of  the  slave.  See 
how  it  spreads!  It  cannot  be  written  down,  nor 
voted  down,  nor  sneered  and  frowned  down ;  it 
cannot  be  put  down  by  all  the  armies  of  the  world. 
This  truth  belongs  to  the  nature  of  man,  and  can 
only  perish  when  the  race  gives  up  the  ghost. 
Yet  it  is  nothing  but  an  idea;  it  has  no  hands, 
no  feet.  The  man  who  first  set  it  agoing  on  the 
earth,  —  see  what  he  has  done  !  Yet  I  doubt 
not  the  villagers  around  him  thought  the  ale-house 
keeper  was  the  more  useful  man;  and  when  beer 
fell  a  penny  in  the  pot,  or  the  priest  put  on  a  new 
cassock,  many  a  man  thought  it  was  a  more  im- 
portant event  than  the  first  announcement  of  this 
truth  to  men.  But  is  not  the  wise  man  stronger 
than  all  the  foolish  ?  Truth  is  a  part  of  the  celes- 
tial machinery  of  God;  whoso  puts  that  in  gear 
for  mankind  has  the  Almighty  to  turn  his  wheel. 
When  God  turns  the  mill,  who  shall  stop  it? 
There  is  a  spark  from  the  good  God  in  us  all. 

"  O,  joy  that  in  our  embers 
Is  something  that  doth  live, 
That  nature  yet  remembers 
What  was  so  fugitive." 

Methinks    I   see   some  thoughtful  man,  studious 
of  truth,  his  intellectual  piety  writ  on  his  tall  pale 


60  TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

brow,  coming  from  the  street,  the  field,  or  shop, 
pause  and  turn  inward  all  his  strength  ;  now  he 
smiles  as  he  gets  glimpses  of  this  bashful  truth, 
which  flies,  yet  wishes  to  be  seen,  —  a  daughter  of 
the  all-blessed  God.  It  is  at  her  beauty  that  he 
smiles,  the  thought  of  kindred  loveliness,  she  is  to 
people  earth  withal.  And  then  the  smile  departs, 
and  a  pale  sadness  settles  down  upon  his  radiant 
face,  as  he  remembers  that  men  water  their  gardens 
for  each  new  plant  with  blood,  and  how  much 
must  be  shed  to  set  a  truth  like  this!  He  shows 
his  thought  to  other  men ;  they  keep  it  nestled 
in  the  family  awhile.  In  due  time  the  truth 
has  come  of  age,  and  must  take  possession  of  the 
estate.  Now  she  wrestles  with  the  Roman  Church ; 
the  contest  is  not  over  yet,  but  the  deadly  wound 
will  never  heal.  Now  she  wrestles  with  the  North- 
ern kings ;  see  how  they  fall,  their  sceptres  broken, 
their  thrones  overturned ;  and  the  fair-faced  daughter 
of  the  Eternal  King  leads  forward  happy  tribes  of 
men,  and  with  pious  vow  inaugurates  the  chiefs 
of  peace,  of  justice,  and  of  love,  and  on  the  one 
great  gospel  of  the  human  heart  swears  them  to 
keep  the  constitution  of  the  universe,  written  by 
God's  own  hand. 

But  this  last  is  only  prophecy ;  men  say,  "  It  can- 
not be;  the  slaves  of  America  must  be  bondmen 
for  ever ;  the  nations  of  Europe  can  never  be  free." 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  61 

I  laugh  at  such  a  word.  Let  me  know  a  thing  is 
true,  I  know  it  has  the  omnipotence  of  God  on 
its  side,  and  fear  no  more  for  it  than  I  fear  for 
God.  Politics  is  the  science  of  exigencies.  The 
eternal  truth  of  things  is  the  exigency  which  controls 
the  science  of  men  as  the  science  of  matter.  Depend 
upon  it,  the  Infinite  God  is  one  of  the  exigencies 
not  likely  to  be  disregarded  in  the  ultimate  events  of 
human  development.  Truth  shall  fail  out  of  geom- 
etry and  politics  at  the  same  time ;  only  we  learn 
first  the  simpler  forms  of  truth.  Now  folly,  passion, 
and  fancied  interest  pervert  the  eye,  which  cannot 
always  fail  to  see. 

Truth  is  the  object  of  the  intellect;  by  human 
wisdom  we  learn  the  thought  of  God,  and  are 
inspired  by  his  mind,  —  not  all  of  us  with,  the  same 
mode,  or  form,  or  quantity  of  truth ;  but  each 
shall  have  his  own,  proportionate  to  his  native 
powers  and  to  the  use  he  makes  thereof.  Love 
of  truth  is  the  intellectual  part  of  piety.  Wisdom 
is  needful  to  complete  and  manly  religion ;  a  thing 
to  be  valued  for  itself,  not  barely  for  its  use.  Love 
of  the  use  will  one  day  give  place  to  love  of  truth 
itself. 

To  keep  the  body's  law  brings  health  and  strength, 
and  in  long  ages  brings  beauty  too;  to  keep  the 
laws  of  mind  brings  in  the  higher  intellectual  health 

6 


62  TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT. 

and  strength  and  loveliness,  as  much  nobler  than 
all  corporeal  qualities  as  the  mind  is  nobler  than 
the  muscles  it  controls.  Truth  will  follow  from 
the  lawful  labor  of  the  mind,  and  serve  the  great 
interest  of  men.  Many  a  thousand  years  hence, 
when  we  are  forgotten,  when  both  the  Englands 
have  perished  out  of  time,  and  the  Anglo-Saxon 
race  is  only  known  as  the  Cherethites  and  Peleth- 
ites,  —  nothing  national  left  but  the  name,  —  the 
truths  we  have  slowly  learned  will  be  added  to 
the  people  that  come  after  us ;  the  great  political 
truth  of  America  will  go  round  the  world,  and 
clothe  the  earth  with  greenness  and  with  beauty. 
All  the  power  of  mind  that  we  mature  and  give 
examples  of  shall  also  survive ;  in  you  and  me 
it  will  be  personally  immortal,  —  a  portion  of  our 
ever-widening  consciousness,  though  all  the  earthly 
wisdom  of  Leibnitz  or  Aristotle  must  soon  become 
a  single  drop  in  the  heavenly  ocean  of  the  sages 
whom  death  has  taught;  but  it  will  be  not  less 
enduring  on  the  earth,  humanly  immortal ;  for  the 
truths  you  bring  to  light  are  dropped  into  the  world's 
wide  treasury,  —  where  Socrates  and  Kant  have  cast 
in  but  two  mites,  which  made  only  a  farthing  in  the 
wealth  of  man,  —  and  form  a  part  of  the  heritage 
which  each  generation  receives,  enlarges,  holds  in 
trust,  and  of  necessity  bequeathes  to  mankind,  the 
personal  estate  of  man   entailed  of   nature  to  the 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  63 

end  of  time.  As  the  men  who  discovered  com, 
tamed  the  ox,  the  horse,  invented  language  and 
letters,  who  conquered  fire  and  water,  and  yoked 
these  two  brute  furious  elements  with  an  iron 
bond,  as  gentle  now  as  any  lamb,  —  as  they  who 
tamed  the  lightning,  sending  it  of  their  errands, 
and  as  they  who  sculptured  loveliness  in  stone 
two  thousand  years  ago,  a  thing  of  beauty  and 
a  joy  for  ever,  —  as  these  and  all  such  transmit 
their  wealthy  works  to  man,  so  he  who  sets  forth  a 
truth  and  develops  wisdom,  any  human  excellence 
of  gift  or  growth,  greatens  the  spiritual  glory  of 
his  race.  And  a  single  man,  who  could  not  make 
one  hair  white  or  black,  has  added  a  cubit  to  the 
stature  of  mankind. 

All  the  material  riches  inherited  or  actively 
acquired  by  this  generation,  our  cultivated  land,  our 
houses,  roads  of  earth,  of  wood,  of  iron,  our  facto- 
ries and  ships,  —  mechanical  inventions  which  make 
New  England  more  powerful  than  Russia  to  create, 
though  she  have  forty-fold  our  men,  —  all  these 
contrivances,  the  crown-jewels  of  the  human  race, 
the  symbols  of  our  kingly  power  over  the  earth, 
we  leave  to  the  next  age ;  your  children's  burden 
will  be  lighter,  their  existence  larger,  and  their  joy 
more  delightful,  for  our  additions  to  this  heritage. 
But  the  spiritual  truths  we  learn,  the  intellectual 
piety  which  we   acquire,  all   the  manly  excellence 


64  TRUTH   AND    THE   INTELLECT. 

that  we  slowly  meditate  and  slowly  sculpture  into 
life,  goes  down  in  blessing  to  mankind,  the  cup 
of  gold  hid  in  the  sack  of  those  who  only  asked 
for  corn,  richer  than  all  the  grain  they  bought. 
Into  our  spiritual  labors  other  men  shall  enter, 
climb  by  our  ladder,  then  build  anew,  and  so  go 
higher  up  towards  heaven  than  you  or  I  had  time 
and  power  to  go.  There  is  a  spiritual  solidarity  of 
the  human  race,  and  the  thought  of  the  first  man 
will  help  the  wisdom  of  the  last.  A  thousand  gen- 
erations live  in  you  and  me. 

It  is  an  old  world,  mankind  is  no  new  creation, 
no  upstart  of  to-day,  but  has  lived  through  hard 
times  and  long.  Yet  what  is  the  history  of  man 
to  the  nature  that  is  in  us  all!  The  instinctive 
hunger  for  perfect  knowledge  will  not  be  contented 
with  repetitions  of  the  remembered  feast.  There 
are  new  truths  to  come, —  truths  in  science,  morals, 
politics,  religion;  some  have  arrived  not  long  ago 
upon  this  planet,  —  many  a  new  thing  underneath 
the  sun.  At  first  men  give  them  doubtful  welcome. 
But  if  you  know  that  they  are  truths,  fear  not; 
be  sure  that  they  will  stay,  adding  new  treasures 
to  the  consciousness  of  men,  new  outward  wel- 
fare to  the  blessedness  of  earth.  No  king  nor 
conqueror  does  men  so  great  a  good  as  he  who 
adds  to  human  kind  a  great  and  universal  truth; 
he  that  aids  its   march,  and  makes  the   thought  a 


TRUTH   AND   THE   INTELLECT.  65 

thing,  works  in  the  same  line  with  Moses,  has 
intellectual  sympathy  with  God,  and  is  a  fellow- 
laborer  with  Him.  The  best  gift  we  can  bestow 
upon  man  is  manhood.  Undervalue  not  material 
things;  but  remember  that  the  generation  which, 
finding  Rome  brick,  left  it  marble  and  full  of 
statues  and  temples  too,  as  its  best  achievement 
bequeathed  to  us  a  few  words  from  a  young  Car- 
penter of  Galilee,  and  the  remembrance  of  his  manly 
life. 


III. 


OF    JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE. 


turn  and  do  jdstice.  —  Tobit  xiii.  6. 

Everywhere  in  the  world  there  is  a  natural  law, 
that  is  a  constant  mode  of  action,  which  seems 
to  belong  to  the  nature  of  things,  to  the  consti- 
tution of  the  universe  :  this  fact  is  universal.  In 
different  departments  we  call  this  mode  of  action 
by  different  names,  as  the  law  of  Matter,  the  law  of 
Mind,  the  law  of  Morals,  and  the  like.  We  mean 
thereby  a  certain  mode  of  action  which  belongs  to 
the  material,  mental,  or  moral  forces,  the  mode  in 
which  commonly  they  are  seen  to  act,  and  in  which 
it  is  their  ideal  to  act  always.  The  ideal  laws  of 
matter  we  only  know  from  the  fact  that  they  are 
always  obeyed ;  to  us  the  actual  obedience  is  the 
only  witness  of  the  ideal  rule,  for  in  respect  to  the 
conduct  of  the  material  world  the  ideal  and  the 
actual  are  the  same. 


JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE.  67 

The  laws  of  matter  we  can  learn  only  by  observa- 
tion and  experience.  We  cannot  divine  them  and 
anticipate,  or  know  them  at  all,  unless  experience 
supply  the  facts  of  observation.  Before  experience 
of  the  fact,  no  man  could  foretell  that  a  falling 
body  would  descend  sixteen  feet  the  first  second, 
twice  that  the  next,  four  times  the  third,  and  sixteen 
times  the  fourth.  The  law  of  falling  bodies  is 
purely  objective  to  us;  no  mode  of  action  in  our 
consciousness  anticipates  this  rule  of  action  in  the 
outer  world.  The  same  is  true  of  all  the  laws 
of  matter.  The  ideal  law  is  known  because  it 
is  a  fact.  The  law  is  imperative  ;  it  must  be 
obeyed,  without  hesitation.  In  the  solar  system, 
or  the  composition  of  a  diamond,  no  margin  is  left 
for  any  oscillation  of  disobedience ;  margins  of  oscil- 
lation there  always  are,  but  only  for  vibration  as  a 
function,  not  as  the  refusal  of  a  function.  Only  the 
primal  will  of  God  works  in  the  material  world,  no 
secondary  finite  will. 

In  Nature,  the  world  spread  out  before  the 
senses,  —  to  group  many  specific  modes  of  action 
about  a  single  generic  force, — we  see  there  is  the 
great  general  law  of  Attraction,  which  binds  atom 
to  atom  in  a  grain  of  sand,  orb  to  orb,  system  to 
system,  gives  unity  to  the  world  of  things,  and 
rounds  these  worlds  of  systems  to  a  universe.  At 
first  there  seem  to  be  exceptions  to  this  law,  —  as  in 


68  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

growth  and  decomposition,  in  the  repulsions  of 
electricity ;  but  at  length  all  these  are  found  to  be 
instantial  cases  of  this  great  law  of  attraction 
acting  in  various  modes.  We  name  the  attraction 
by  its  several  modes,  —  cohesion  in  small  masses, 
and  gravitation  in  large.  When  the  relation  seems 
a  little  more  intimate,  we  call  it  affinity,  as  in  the 
atomic  union  of  molecules  of  matter.  Other  modes 
we  name  electricity,  and  magnetism  ;  when  the 
relation  is  yet  more  close  and  intimate,  we  call  it 
vegetation  in  plants,  vitality  in  animals.  But  for 
the  present  purpose  all  these  may  be  classed  under 
the  general  term  Attraction,  considered  as  acting 
in  various  modes  of  cohesion,  gravitation,  affinity, 
vegetation,  and  vitality. 

This  power  gives  unity  to  the  material  world, 
keeps  it  whole  ;  yet,  acting  under  such  various 
forms,  gives  variety  at  the  same  time.  The  variety 
of  effect  surprises  the  senses  at  first;  but  in  the 
end  the  unity  of  cause  astonishes  the  cultivated 
mind.  Looked  at  in  reference  to  this  globe,  an 
earthquake  is  no  more  than  a  chink  that  opens 
in  a  garden-walk,  of  a  dry  day  in  summer.  A 
sponge  is  porous,  having  small  spaces  between  the 
solid  parts ;  the  solar  system  is  only  more  porous, 
having  larger  room  between  the  several  orbs ;  the 
universe  yet  more  so,  with  vast  spaces  between 
the   systems  ;    a   similar   attraction   keeps   together 


JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE.  69 

the  sponge,  the  system,  and  the  universe.  Every 
particle  of  matter  in  the  world  is  related  to  each 
and  all  the  other  particles  thereof;  attraction  is  the 
common  bond. 

In  the  spiritual  world,  the  world  of  human  con- 
sciousness, there  is  also  a  law,  an  ideal  mode  of 
action  for  the  spiritual  forces  of  man.  To  take 
only  the  moral  part  of  this  sphere  of  consciousness, 
we  find  the  phenomenon  called  Justice,  the  law  of 
right.  Viewed  as  a  force,  it  bears  the  same  rela- 
tion in  the  world  of  conscience,  that  attraction 
bears  in  the  world  of  sense.  I  mean  justice  is 
the  normal  relation  of  men,  and  has  the  same  to 
do  amongst  moral  atoms,  —  individual  men,  — 
moral  masses,  —  that  is,  nations,  —  and  the  moral 
whole,  —  I  mean  all  mankind,  —  which  attraction 
has  to  do  with  material  atoms,  masses,  and  the 
material  whole.  It  appears  in  a  variety  of  forms 
not  less  striking. 

However,  unlike  attraction,  it  does  not  work 
free  from  all  hinderance;  it  develops  itself  through 
conscious  agents,  that  continually  change,  and 
pass  by  experiment  from  low  to  high  degrees  of 
life  and  development,  to  higher  forms  of  justice. 
There  is  a  certain  private  force,  personal  and  pecu- 
liar to  each  one  of  us,  controlled  by  individual 
will;  this  may  act  in  the  same  line  with  the  great 
normal   force  of  justice,   or  it   may  conflict   for  a 


70  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

time  with  the  general  law  of  the  universe,  having 
private  nutations,  oscillations,  and  aberrations,  per- 
sonal or  national.  But  these  minor  forces,  after  a 
while,  are  sure  to  be  overcome  by  the  great  general 
moral  force,  pass  into  the  current,  and  be  borne 
along  in  the  moral  stream  of  the  universe. 

What  a  variety  of  men  and  women  in  the  world ! 
Two  hundred  million  persons,  and  no  two  alike 
in  form  and  lineament !  in  character  and  being 
how  unlike !  how  very  different  as  phenomena  and 
facts !  What  an  immense  variety  of  wish,  of  will, 
in  these  thousand  million  men!  of  plans,  which 
now  rise  up  in  the  little  personal  bubble  that 
we  call  a  reputation  or  a  great  fortune,  then  in 
the  great  national  bubble  which  we  call  a  State ! 
for  bubbles  they  are,  judging  by  the  space  and 
time  they  occupy  in  this  great  and  age-outlast- 
ing sea  of  human  kind.  But  underneath  all 
these  bubbles,  great  and  little,  resides  the  same 
eternal  force  which  they  shape  into  this  or  the 
other  special  form ;  and  over  all  the  same  pater- 
nal Providence  presides,  and  keeps  eternal  watch 
above  the  little  and  the  great,  producing  variety 
of  effect  from  unity  of  force.  This  Providence 
allows  the  little  bubbles  of  his  child's  caprice, 
humors  him  in  forming  them,  gives  him  time  and 
space  for  that,  understands  his  little  caprices  and 
his  whims,  and   lets   him   carry  them   out  awhile ; 


JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE.  71 

but  Himself,  with  no  whim  and  no  caprice,  rules 
there  as  universal  justice,  omniscient  and  all-pow- 
erful. Out  of  His  sea  these  bubbles  rise ;  by  His 
force  they  rise ;  by  His  law  they  have  their  con- 
sistence, and  the  private  personal  will,  which  gives 
them  size  or  littleness  and  normal  or  abnormal 
shape,  has  its  limitation  of  error  marked  out  for 
it  which  cannot  be  passed  by.  In  this  human 
world  there  is  a  wide  margin  for  oscillation ;  refusal 
to  perform  the  ideal  function  has  been  provided 
for,  redundance  made  to  balance  deficiency ;  checks 
are  provided  for  every  form  of  abnormal  action  of 
the  will. 

Viewed  as  an  object  not  in  man,  justice  is  the 
constitution  or  fundamental  law  of  the  moral  uni- 
verse, the  law  of  right,  a  rule  of  conduct  for  man 
in  all  his  moral  relations.  Accordingly  all  human 
affairs  must  be  subject  to  that  as  the  law  para- 
mount; what  is  right  agrees  therewith  and  stands, 
what  is  wrong  conflicts  and  falls.  Private  cohe- 
sions of  self-love,  of  friendship,  or  of  patriotism, 
must  all  be  subordinate  to  this  universal  gravitation 
towards  the  eternal  right. 

We  learn  the  laws  of  matter,  that  of  attraction, 
for  example,  by  observation  and  reflection;  what 
we  know  thereof  is  the  result  of  long  experience, 
—  the  experienced  sight  and  the  experienced  thought 


72  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

of  many  a  thousand  years.  We  might  learn 
something  of  the  moral  law  of  justice,  the  law 
of  right,  in  the  same  way,  as  a  merely  external 
thing.  Then  we  should  know  it  as  a  phenomenon, 
as  we  know  attraction ;  as  a  fact  so  general, 
that  we  called  it  universal  and  a  law  of  nature. 
Still  it  would  be  deemed  only  an  arbitrary  law, 
over  us,  indeed,  but  not  in  us, —  or  in  our  ele- 
ments, not  our  consciousness,  —  which  we  must  be 
subordinate  to,  but  could  not  become  coordinate 
with;  a  law  like  that  of  falling  bodies,  which  had 
no  natural  relation  with  us,  which  we  could  not 
anticipate  or  divine  by  our  nature,  but  only  learn 
by  our  history.  We  should  not  know  why  God 
had  made  the  world  after  the  pattern  of  justice, 
and  not  injustice,  any  more  than  we  now  know 
why  a  body  does  not  fall  as  rapidly  the  first  as  the 
last  second  of  its  descent. 

But  God  has  given  us  a  moral  faculty,  the  con- 
science, which  is  able  to  perceive  this  law  directly 
and  immediately,  by  intuitive  perception  thereof, 
without  experience  of  the  external  consequences  of 
keeping  or  violating  it,  and  more  perfectly  than 
such  experience  can  ever  disclose  it.  For  the  facts 
of  man's  history  do  not  fully  represent  the  faculties 
of  his  nature  as  the  history  of  matter  represents 
the  qualities  of  matter.  Man,  though  finite,  is 
indefinitely   progressive,   continually    unfolding   the 


JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE.  73 

qualities  of  his  nature ;  his  history,  therefore,  is 
not  the  whole  book  of  man,  but  only  the  portion 
thereof  which  has  been  opened  and  publicly  read. 
So  the  history  of  man  never  completely  represents 
his  nature  ;  and  a  law  derived  merely  from  the  facts 
of  observation  by  no  means  describes  the  normal 
rule  of  action  which  belongs  to  his  nature.  The 
laws  of  matter  are  known  to  us  because  they  are 
kept ;  there  the  ideal  and  actual  are  the  same  ;  but 
man  has  in  his  nature  a  rule  of  conduct  higher 
than  what  he  has  come  up  to,  —  an  ideal  of  nature 
which  shames  his  actual  of  history.  Observation 
and  reflection  only  give  us  the  actual  of  morals ; 
conscience,  by  gradual  and  successive  intuition, 
presents  us  the  ideal  of  morals.  On  condition  that 
I  use  this  faculty  in  its  normal  activity,  and  in 
proportion  as  I  develop  it  and  all  its  kindred 
powers,  I  learn  justice,  the  law  of  right,  the  divine 
rule  of  conduct  for  human  life ;  I  see  it,  not  as  an 
external  fact  which  might  as  well  not  be  at  all  as 
be,  or  might  have  been  supplanted  by  its  opposite, 
but  I  see  it  as  a  mode  of  action  which  belongs  to 
the  infinitely  perfect  nature  of  God;  belongs  also 
to  my  own  nature,  and  so  is  not  barely  over  me, 
but  in  me,  of  me,  and  for  me.  I  can  become  co- 
ordinate with  that,  and  not  merely  subordinate 
thereto ;  I  find  a  deep,  permanent,  and  instinctive 

delight  in  justice,  not  only  in  the  outward  effects, 

7  * 


74  JUSTICE   AND    THE   CONSCIENCE. 

• 

but  in  the  inward  cause,  and  by  my  nature  I  love 
this  law  of  right,  this  rule  of  conduct,  this  justice, 
with  a  deep  and  abiding  love.  I  find  that  justice  is 
the  object  of  ray  conscience,  fitting  that  as  light  the 
eye  and  truth  the  mind.  There  is  a  perfect  agree- 
ment between  the  moral  object  and  the  moral  sub- 
ject. Finding  it  fit  me  thus,  I  know  that  justice 
will  work  my  welfare  and  that  of  all  mankind. 

Attraction  is  the  most  general  law  in  the  mate- 
rial world,  and  prevents  a  schism  in  the  universe ; 
temperance   is   the   law  of  the  body,  and   prevents 
a  schism   in    the    members ;  justice   is   the   law   of 
conscience,   and   prevents   a   schism   in    the    moral 
world,  amongst   individuals  in  a  family,  communi- 
ties  in  a  State,  or  nations  in   the  world    of   men. 
Temperance  is  corporeal  justice,  the  doing  right  to 
each  limb    of  the   body,  and   is   the    mean    propor- 
tional between  appetite  and  appetite,  or  one  and  all ; 
sacrificing  no  majority  to  one  desire,  however  great, 
—  no    minority,    however    little,   to    a    majority, — 
but  giving  each  its  due,  and  to  all  the  harmonious 
and  well-proportioned    symmetry  that   is    meet   for 
all.     It  keeps  the  proportions  betwixt  this  and  that, 
and    holds    an    even   balance   within   the   body,    so 
that  there  shall  be  no  excess.     Justice  is  moral  tem- 
perance  in   the  world  of  men.     It  keeps  just  rela- 
tions between  men ;  one  man,  however  little,  must 


JUSTICE   AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  75 

not  be  sacrificed  to  another,  however  great,  to  a 
majority,  or  to  all  men.  It  holds  the  balance  be- 
twixt nation  and  nation,  for  a  nation  is  but  a  larger 
man ;  betwixt  a  man  and  his  family,  tribe,  nation, 
race  ;  between  mankind  and  God.  It  is  the  uni- 
versal regulator  which  coordinates  man  with  man, 
each  with  all, —  me  with  the  ten  hundred  millions 
of  men,  so  that  my  absolute  rights  and  theirs  do 
not  interfere,  nor  our  ultimate  interests  ever  clash, 
nor  my  eternal  welfare  prove  antagonistic  to  the 
blessedness  of  all  or  any  one.  I  am  to  do  justice, 
and  demand  that  of  all,  —  a  universal  human  debt, 
a  universal  human  claim. 

But  it  extends  further;  it  is  the  regulator  be- 
tween men  and  God.  It  is  the  moral  spontaneous- 
ness  of  the  Infinite  God,  as  it  is  to  be  the  moral 
volition  of  finite  men.  The  right  to  the  justice  of 
God  is  unalienable  in  men,  the  universal  human 
claim,  the  never-ending  gift  for  them.  Can  God 
ever  depart  from  his  own  justice,  deprive  any  crea- 
ture of  a  right,  or  balk  it  of  a  natural  claim  ?  Phi- 
losophically speaking,  it  is  impossible,  —  a  contra- 
diction to  our  idea  of  God ;  religiously  speaking,  it 
is  impious,  —  a  contradiction  to  our  feeling  of  God. 
Both  the  philosophic  and  the  religious  consciousness 
declare  it  impossible  that  God  should  be  unjust. 
The  nature  of  finite  men  claims  justice  of  God; 
His  infinite  nature   adjusts  the  claim.     Every  man 


76  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

in  the  world  is  morally  related  to  each  and  all  the 
rest.  Justice  is  the  common  human  bond.  It  joins 
us  also  to  the  infinite  God.  Justice  is  his  constant 
mode  of  action  in  the  moral  world. 

So  much  for  justice,  viewed  as  objective;  as  a 
law  of  the  universe,  the  mode  of  action  of  the  uni- 
versal moral  force. 

Man  naturally  loves  justice,  for  its  own  sake,  as 
the  natural  object  of  his  conscience.  As  the  mind 
loves  truth  and  beauty,  so  conscience  loves  the 
right ;  it  is  true  and  beautiful  to  the  moral  faculties. 
Conscience  rests  in  justice  as  an  end,  as  the  mind  in 
truth.  As  truth  is  the  side  of  God  turned  towards 
the  intellect,  so  is  justice  the  side  of  Him  which 
conscience  looks  upon.  Love  of  justice  is  the  moral 
part  of  piety. 

When  I  am  a  baby,  in  my  undeveloped  moral 
state,  I  do  not  love  justice,  nor  conform  to  it ;  when 
I  am  sick,  and  have  not  complete  control  over  this 
republic  of  nerves  and  muscles,  I  fail  of  justice,  and 
heed  it  not ;  when  I  am  stung  with  beastly  rage, 
blinded  by  passion,  or  over  attracted  from  my  proper 
sphere  of  affection,  another  man  briefly  possessing 
me,  I  may  not  love  the  absolute  and  eternal  right, 
private  capillary  attraction  conflicting  with  the  uni- 
versal gravitation.  But  in  my  maturity,  in  my  cool 
and  personal  hours,  when   I  am  most  myself,  and 


JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  77 

the  accidents  of  my  bodily  temperament  and  local 
surroundings  are  controlled  by  the  substance  of  my 
manhood,  then  I  love  justice  with  a  firm,  unwaver- 
ing love.  That  is  the  natural  fealty  of  my  con- 
science to  its  liege-lord.  Then  I  love  justice,  not  for 
its  consequences  for  bodily  gain,  but  for  itself,  for 
the  moral  truth  and  loveliness  thereof.  Then  if 
justice  crown  me  I  am  glad,  not  merely  with  my 
persona]  feeling,  because  it  is  I  who  wear  the  crown, 
but  because  it  is  the  crown  of  justice.  If  justice 
discrown  and  bind  me  clown  to  infamy,  I  still  am 
glad  with  all  my  moral  sense,  and  joy  in  the  univer- 
sal justice,  though  I  suffer  with  the  private  smart. 
Though  all  that  is  merely  selfish  and  personal  of  me 
revolts,  still  what  is  noblest,  what  I  hold  in  common 
with  mankind  and  in  common  with  God,  bids  me 
be  glad  if  justice  is  done  upon  me;  to  me  or  upon 
me,  I  know  it  is  justice  still,  and  though  my  private 
injustice  be  my  foe,  the  justice  of  the  universe  is 
still  my  friend.  God,  acting  in  this  universal  mode 
of  moral  force,  acts  for  me,  and  the  prospect  of 
future  suffering  has  no  terror. 

Men  reverence  and  love  justice.  Conscience  is 
loyal ;  moral  piety  begins  early,  the  ethical  instinct 
prompting  mankind,  and  in  savage  ages  bringing 
out  the  lovely  flower  in  some  woman's  character, 
where  moral  beauty  has  its  earliest  spring.  Com- 
monly, men  love  justice  a  little  more  than  truth; 

7  * 


78  JUSTICE   AND    THE    CONSCIENCE. 

they  are  more  moral  than  intellectual;  have  ideas 
of  the  conscience  more  than  of  the  mind.  This  is 
not  true  of  the  more  cultivated  classes  in  any 
civilization,  but  of  the  mass  of  men  in  all;  their 
morals  are  better  than  their  philosophy.  They  see 
more  absolute  truth  with  the  moral  than  with  the 
intellectual  faculty.  The  instinct  for  the  abstract 
just  of  will  is  always  a  little  before  the  instinct  for 
the  abstract  true  of  thought.  This  is  the  normal 
order  of  development.  But  in  the  artificial  forms 
of  culture,  what  is  selfish  and  for  one  takes  rank 
before  what  is  human  and  for  all.  So  cultivated 
men  commonly  seek  large  intellectual  power,  as 
an  instrument  for  their  selfish  purposes,  and  neg- 
lect and  even  hate  to  get  a  large  moral  power,  the 
instrument  of  universal  benevolence.  They  love 
the  exclusive  use  of  certain  forms  of  truth,  and 
neglect  justice,  which  would  make  the  convenience 
of  every  truth  serve  the  common  good  of  all.  Men 
with  large  moral  power  must  needs  work  for  all ; 
with  merely  large  intellectual  power  they  may  work 
only  for  themselves.  Hence  crafty  aristocracies 
and  monopolists  seek  for  intellectual  culture  as 
a  mode  of  power,  and  shun  moral  culture,  which 
<can  never  serve  a  selfish  end.  This  rule  holds  good 
of  all  the  great  forms  of  civilization,  from  the 
Egyptian  to  the  British  ;  of  all  the  higher  semina- 
ries   of    education,   from    the    Propaganda    of    the 


JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  79 

Jesuits  to  a  New  England  college.  In  all  the  civil- 
ized nations  at  this  day,  the  controlling  class  is 
intellectual  more  than  moral;  has  more  power  of 
thought  than  power  of  righteousness.  The  same 
fact  appears  in  the  literature  of  the  world.  The 
foremost  class  in  culture,  wealth,  and  social  rank 
have  less  than  the  average  proportion  of  morality. 
Hence  comes  the  character  of  laws,  political,  social, 
and  ecclesiastical  institutions,  —  not  designed  for  all, 
but  for  a  few,  at  best  a  part,  because  the  makers  did 
not  start  with  adequate  moral  power,  nor  propose 
justice  as  an  end. 

Yet  the  mass  of  men  are  always  looking  for  the 
just ;  all  this  vast  machinery  which  makes  up  a 
State,  a  world  of  States,  is,  on  the  part  of  the  peo- 
ple, an  attempt  to  organize  justice;  the  minute 
and  wide-extending  civil  machinery  which  makes 
up  the  law  and  the  courts,  with  all  their  officers 
and  implements,  on  the  part  of  mankind,  is  chiefly 
an  effort  to  reduce  to  practice  the  theory  of  right. 
Alas !  with  the  leaders  of  civil  and  political  affairs 
it  is  quite  different,  often  an  organization  of  self- 
ishness. Mankind  reaches  out  after  the  absolute 
right,  makes  its  constitutions  to  establish  justice, 
and  provide  for  the  common  defence.  We  report 
the  decisions  of  wise  men,  and  of  courts  ;  we  keep 
the  record  of  cases  decided,  to  help  us  judge  more 
wisely  in  time  to  come.     The  nation  would  enact 


80  JUSTICE   AND   THE    CONSCIENCE. 

laws :  it  aims  to  get  the  justest  men  in  the  State, 
that  they  may  incorporate  their  aggregate  sense  of 
right  into'  a  statute.  We  set  twelve  honest  men  to 
try  an  alleged  offender ;  they  are  to  apply  their  joint 
justice  to  the  special  case.  The  people  wish  law  to 
be  embodied  justice,  administered  without  passion. 
I  know  the  government  seldom  desires  this ;  the  peo- 
ple as  seldom  fail  of  the  wish.  Yet  the  mass  of 
men  commonly  attribute  their  own  moral  aims  to 
every  great  leader.  Did  they  know  the  actual  self- 
ishness and  injustice  of  their  rulers,  not  a  govern- 
ment would  stand  a  year.  The  world  would 
ferment  with  universal  revolution. 

In  savage  times,  duelling  and  private  revenge 
grew  out  of  this  love  of  justice.  They  were  rude 
efforts  after  the  right.  In  its  name  a  man  slew  his 
father's  murderer,  or,  failing  thereof,  left  the  rever- 
sion of  his  vengeance  as  a  trust  in  the  hands  of  his 
own  son,  to  be  paid  to  the  offender  or  his  heir. 
With  the  Norsemen  it  was  deemed  a  crime  against 
society  to  forgive  a  grievous  wrong,  and  "nidding" 
is  a  word  of  contempt  to  this  day.  It  was  not 
merely  personal  malice  which  led  to  private  revenge  • 
which  bade  the  Scottish  mother  train  up  one  son 
after  another  filled  with  a  theological  hatred  against 
their  father's  murderer;  not  a  private  and  selfish 
lust  of  vengeance  alone  which  sustained  her  after 
the  eldest  and  then  the  next  of  age  perished  in  the 


JUSTICE   AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  81 

attempt,  and  filled  her  with  a  horrid  joy  when 
the  third  succeeded.  It  was  "wild  justice"  in  a 
wild  age,  but  always  mixed  with  passion,  and 
administered  in  hate ;  private  vengeance  edged  the 
axe  with  which  wild  justice  struck  the  blow.  Even 
now,  in  the  ruder  portions  of  America,  South  and 
West,  where  the  common  law  is  silent,  and  of 
statutes  there  are  none,  or  none  enforced,  when  a 
wrong  is  done,  the  offended  people  come  forth  and 
hold  their  court,  with  summary  process,  brief  and 
savage,  to  decree  something  like  justice  in  a  brutal 
way;  rage  furnishing  the  occasion,  conscience  is 
still  the  cause. 

All  these  things  indicate  a  profound  love  of  jus- 
tice inherent  in  mankind.  It  takes  a  rude  form 
with  rude  men,  is  mixed  with  passion,  private  hate ; 
in  a  civilized  community  it  takes  a  better  form, 
and  attempts  are  made  to  remove  all  personal 
malice  from  the  representatives  of  right.  A  few 
years  ago  men  were  surprised  to  see  the  people  of 
a  neighboring  city  for  the  first  time  choose  their 
judges :  common  elections  had  been  carried  there 
by  uncommon  party  tricks  ;  but  when  this  grave 
matter  came  before  the  people,  they  laid  off  their 
party  badges,  and  as  men  chose  the  best  officers  for 
that  distinguished  trust. 

The  people  are  not  satisfied  with  any  form  of 
government,  or   statute   law,  until  it   comes  up   to 


S2  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

their  sense  of  justice ;  so  every  progressive  State 
revises  its  statutes  from  time  to  time,  and  at  each 
revision  comes  nearer  to  the  absolute  right  which 
human  nature  demands.  Mankind,  always  pro- 
gressive, revolutionizes  constitutions,  changes  and 
changes,  seeking  to  come  close  to  the  ideal  jus- 
tice, the  divine  and  immutable  law  of  the  world, 
to  which  we  all  owe  fealty,  swear  how  we  will. 

In  literature  men  always  look  for  poetical  justice, 
desiring  that  virtue  should  have  its  own  reward, 
and  vice  appropriate  punishment,  not  always  out- 
ward, but  always  real,  and  made  known  to  the 
reader.  All  students  of  English  history  rejoice  at 
the  downfall  of  Judge  Jeffries.  In  romances  we 
love  to  read  of  some  man  or  maid  oppressed  by 
outward  circumstances,  but  victorious  over  them ; 
hawked  at  by  villains  whose  foot  is  taken  in  their 
own  snare.  This  is  the  principal  charm  in  the  bal- 
lads and  people's  poetry  of  England  and  Ger- 
many, and  in  the  legends  of  Catholic  countries. 
All  men  sympathize  in  the  fate  of  Blue  Beard, 
and  "the  guardian  uncle  fierce."  The  world  has 
ready  sympathy  with  the  Homeric  tale  of  Ulysses 
returning  to  his  Penelope,  long  faithful,  but  not 
grown  old  with  bafHing  the  suitors  for  twenty 
years.  It  is  his  justice  and  humanity  which  give 
such  a  wide  audience  to  the  most  popular  novelist 
of  our  day.     But  when  a  writer  tries  to  paint  vice 


JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE.  83 

beautiful,  make  sin  triumphant,  men  shrink  away 
from  the  poison  atmosphere  he  breathes.  Authors 
like  Filmer,  Machiavel,  and  Hobbes  arouse  the  in- 
dignation of  mankind.  The  fact  of  personal  error 
it  is  easy  to  excuse,  but  mankind  does  not  forgive 
such  as  teach  the  theory  of  sin.  We  always  honor 
men  who  forget  their  immediate  personal  interests, 
and  use  an  author's  sacred  function  to  bear  witness 
to  the  right. 

The  majority  of  men  who  think  have  an  ideal 
justice  better  than  the  things  about  them,  juster 
than  the  law.  Some  paint  it  behind  them,  on  the 
crumbling  walls  of  history,  and  tell  us  of  "  the 
good  old  times ; "  others  paint  it  before  them,  on 
the  morning  mist  of  youthful  life,  and  in  their 
prayers  and  their  daily  toil  strive  after  this,  —  their 
New  Jerusalem.  We  all  of  us  have  some  ideal ; 
our  dream  is  fairer  than  our  day ;  we  will  not  let  it 
go.  If  the  wicked  prosper,  it  is  but  for  a  moment, 
say  we  ;  the  counsel  of  the  froward  shall  be  carried 
headlong.  What  an  ideal  democracy  now  floats 
before  the  eyes  of  earnest  and  religious  men, — fairer 
than  the  «  Republic  "  of  Plato,  or  More's  "  Utopia," 
or  the  "  golden  age "  of  fabled  memory !  It  is 
justice  that  we  want  to  organize, — justice  for  all, 
for  rich  and  poor  There  the  slave  shall  be  free 
from  his  master.  There  shall  be  no  want,  no 
oppression,  no   fear  of  man,   no   fear  of  God,  but 


84  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

only  love.  "  There  is  a  good  time  coming,"  —  so 
we  all  believe  when  we  are  young  and  full  of  life 
and  healthy  hope. 

God  has  made  man  with  the  instinctive  love  of 
justice  in  him,  which  gradually  gets  developed  in 
the  world.  But  in  Himself  justice  is  infinite.  This 
justice  of  God  must  appear  in  the  world,  and  in  the 
history  of  men ;  and,  after  all  "  the  wrongs  that 
patient  merit  of  the  unworthy  takes,"  still  you  see 
that  the  ploughshare  of  justice  is  drawn  through 
and  through  the  field  of  the  world,  uprooting  the 
savage  plants.  The  proverbs  of  the  nations  tell  us 
this :  "  The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slow,  but  they 
grind  to  powder  ;  "  "  111  got  ill  spent  ;  "  "  The 
triumphing  of  the  wicked  is  but  for  a  moment;" 
"  What  the  Devil  gives,  he  also  takes ; "  "  Honesty 
is  the  best  policy ; "  "  No  butter  will  stick  to  a  bad 
man's  bread."  Sometimes  these  sayings  come  from 
the  instinct  of  justice  in  man,  and  have  a  little  ethical 
exaggeration  about  them,  but  yet  more  often  they 
represent  the  world's  experience  of  facts  more  than 
its  consciousness  of  ideas. 

Look  at  the  facts  of  the  world.  You  see  a  con- 
tinual and  progressive  triumph  of  the  right.  I  do 
not  pretend  to  understand  the  moral  universe ;  the 
arc  is  a  long  one,  my  eye  reaches  but  little  ways ; 
I  cannot  calculate  the  curve  and  complete  the  figure 


JUSTICE   AND    THE   CONSCIENCE.  85 

by  the  experience  of  sight ;  I  can  divine  it  by  con- 
science. And  from  what  I  see  I  am  sure  it  bends 
towards  justice.  Things  refuse  to  be  mismanaged 
long.  Jefferson  trembled  when  he  thought  of  slavery 
and  remembered  that  God  is  just.  Erelong  all 
America  will  tremble.  The  Stuarts  in  England 
were  tyrannical  and  strong:  respectable  and  peace- 
ful men  kept  still  a  while,  and  bore  the  tyranny  ; 
but  men  who  loved  God  and  his  justice  more  than 
house  and  land  fled  to  the  wilderness,  and  built  up 
a  troublesome  commonwealth  of  Puritans.  Sueh 
as  stayed  at  home  endeavored  for  a  while  to  submit 
to  the  wrong;  some  of  them  made  theories  to  justify 
it.  But  it  could  not  be  ;  the  tyranny  became  unbear- 
able even  to  barons  and  bishops ;  one  tyrant  loses 
his  head,  another  his  crown ;  no  Stuart  must  tread 
again  the  English  soil;  legitimacy  becomes  a  pre- 
tender. 

England  would  rule  America,  not  for  our  good, 
but  hers  alone.  We  forgot  the  love  which  bound 
the  two  people  into  one  family;  the  obstinate  in- 
justice of  the  mother  weakened  the  ties  of  language, 
literature,  religion,  —  the  Old  England  and  the  New 
read  the  same  Bible,  —  kindred  blood  and  institu- 
tions inherited  from  the  same  fathers ;  we  thought 
only  of  the  injustice  ;  and  there  was  an  ocean  be- 
tween us  and  the  mother  country.  The  fairest 
jewel  fell  from  the  British  crown. 

8 


86  JUSTICE   AND   THE    CONSCIENCE. 

Ill  France,  kings,  nobles,  clergy,  trod  the  people 
down.  Men  bore  it  with  the  slow,  sad  patience  of 
humanity,  bore  it  out  of  regard  for  the  "divinity 
that  doth  hedge  a  king,"  for  the  nobility  of  the 
noble,  and  the  reverence  of  the  priest.  But  in  a 
few  years  outraged  humanity  forgot  its  slow,  sad 
patience,  and  tore  away  this  triple  torment,  —  as 
Paul,  escaped  from  wreck,  shook  off  the  viper  from 
his  hand,  —  and  trod  the  venomous  beast  to  dust. 
Napoleon  came,  king  of  the  people.  Justice  was 
his  word,  his  action  for  a  while.  The  nation  gath- 
ered about  him,  gave  him  their  treasure  and  their 
trust.  He  was  strong  through  the  people's  faith ;  his 
foes  fell  before  him  ;  ancient  thrones  tottered  and 
reeled,  and  came  heavy  to  the  ground.  The  name 
of  justice,  of  the  rights  of  man,  shook  down  their 
thrones,  and  organized  victory  at  every  step.  But 
he  grows  giddy  with  his  height ;  selfishness  takes 
the  place  of  justice  in  his  counsels ;  a  bastard  giant 
sits  on  the  throne  whence  the  people  had  hurled  off 
"  legitimate  "  oppression ;  he  fights  no  more  the 
battles  of  mankind ;  justice  is  exiled  from  his  upstart 
court.  The  people  fall  away ;  victory  perches  no 
more  on  his  banner.  The  snows  of  Russia  cut  off 
his  army,  but  it  was  his  own  injustice  that  brought 
Napoleon  to  the  ground.  Self-shorn  of  this  great 
strength,  the  ablest  monarch  since  Charlemagne  sits 
down  on  a  little  island  in  the  tropic  sea,  and  dies 


JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  87 

upon  that  lonely  rock,  his  life  a  warning,  to  bid  man- 
kind be  just  and  not  despise  the  Lord.  No  mighti- 
ness of  genius  could  save  him,  cut  off  from  the 
moral  force  of  the  human  race.  Can  any  tyrant 
prosper  where  such  a  master  fell  ? 

Look  at  the  condition  of  Christendom  at  this 
day;  what  tyrant  sits  secure?  Revolution  is  the 
Lynch-law  of  nations ;  it  creates  an  anarchy,  and 
then  organizes  its  provisional  government  of  mo- 
mentary despotism.  It  is  a  bloody  process,  but  jus- 
tice does  not  disdain  a  rugged  road  ;  the  Desire  of 
all  nations  comes  not  always  on  an  ass's  colt.  All 
Europe  is,  just  now,  in  a  great  ferment;  terrible 
questions  are  getting  ready  for  a  swift  tribunal. 
Injustice  cannot  stand.  No  armies,  no  "  Holy  Al- 
liance," can  hold  it  up.  Human  nature  is  against 
it;  and  so  is  the  nature  of  God!  "Justice  has  feet 
of  wool,"  no  man  hears  her  step,  "but  her  hands  are 
of  iron,"  and  where  she  lays  them  down,  only  God 
can  uplift  and  unclasp.  It  is  vain  to  trust  in  wrong : 
As  much  of  evil,  so  much  of  loss,  is  the  formula  of 
human  history. 

I  know  men  complain  that  sentence  against  an 
evil  work  is  not  presently  executed.  They  see  but 
half;  it  is  executed,  and  with  speed ;  every  depart- 
ure from  justice  is  attended  with  loss  to  the  unjust 
man,   but   the    loss    is   not   reported    to  the   public. 


88  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

Sometimes  a  man  is  honored  as  a  brave,  good  man, 
but  trial  rings  him  and  he  gives  an  empty,  hollow 
sound.  All  the  ancient  and  honorable  may  bid  the 
people  trust  that  man,  —  they  turn  off  their  affec- 
tions from  him. 

So  have  I  seen  an  able  man,  witty  and  cunning, 
graceful,  plausible,  elegant,  and  rich ;  men  honored 
him  for  a  time,  tickled  by  his  beauty  to  eye  and 
ear.  But  gradually  the  mean  soul  of  the  man  ap- 
peared in  his  conduct,  selfish,  grasping,  inhuman, 
and  fraudulently  unjust.  The  public  heart  forgot 
him,  and  when  he  came  to  die,  the  town  which  once 
had  honored  him  so  much  gave  him  only  earth  to  rest 
his  coffin  on.  He  had  the  official  praises  which  he 
paid  for,  that  was  all.  Silence  is  a  figure  of  speech, 
unanswerable,  short,  cold,  but  terribly  severe. 

How  differently  do  men  honor  such  as  stood  up 
for  truth  and  right,  and  never  shrank  !  What  monu- 
ments the  world  builds  to  its  patriots !  Four  great 
statesmen,  organizers  of  the  right,  embalmed  in 
stone,  look  down  upon  the  lawgivers  of  France  as 
they  pass  to  their  hall  of  legislation,  silent  orators 
to  tell  how  nations  love  the  just.  What  a  monu- 
ment Washington  has  built  in  the  heart  of  America 
and  all  the  world !  not  by  great  genius,  —  he  had 
none  of  that, —  but  by  his  effort  to  be  just.  The 
martyrs  of  Christendom,  of  Judaism,  and  of  every 


JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  89 

form  of  heathen  faith,  —  how  men  worship  those 
firm  souls  who  shook  off  their  body  sooner  than  be 
false  to  conscience. 

Yet  eminent  justice  is  often  misunderstood.  Lit- 
tleness has  its  compensation.  A  small  man  is  sel- 
dom pinched  for  want  of  room.  Greatness  is  its 
own  torment.  There  was  once  a  man  on  this  earth 
whom  the  world  could  not  understand.  He  was  too 
high  for  them,  too  wide,  was  every  way  too  great. 
He  came,  the  greatest  moral  genius  of  our  history, 
to  bless  mankind.  Men  mocked  him,  gave  him  a 
gallows  between  two  thieves.  "  Saviour,  save  thy- 
self," said  they,  as  they  shot  out  the  lip  at  him. 
"  Father,  forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they 
do!"  was  the  manly  answer  to  the  brutal  taunt. 
Now  see  how  the  world  avenges  its  conscience  on 
itself  for  this  injustice :  for  sixteen  hundred  years 
men  worship  him  as  God  throughout  the  Western 
World.  His  name  goes  like  the  morning  sun  around 
the  earth,  like  that  to  waken  beauty  into  life.  This 
conscience  of  ours  is  loyal ;  only  let  us  see  the  man 
and  know  that  he  is  King  of  Righteousness,  and  we 
will  do  him  homage  all  our  days. 

But  we  do  not  see  that  justice  is  always  done 
on  earth ;  many  a  knave  is  rich,  sleek,  and  honored, 
while  the  just  man  is  poor,  hated,  and  in  torment. 
The  Silesian  merchant  fattens  on  the  weavers'  tears, 
and  eats  their  children's  bones.     Three  million  slaves 

8* 


90  JUSTICE   AND   THE    CONSCIENCE. 

earn  the  enjoyment  of  Americans,  who  curse  them 
in  the  name  of  Christ ;  in  the  North,  capital  is  a 
tyrant  over  labor.  How  sad  is  the  condition  of  the 
peasantry  of  Christendom !  The  cry  of  a  world  of 
suffering,  from  mythic  Abel  to  the  actual  slaves  of 
America,  comes  up  to  our  ear,  and  the  instinct  of 
justice  paints  a  world  beyond  the  grave,  where  exact 
justice  shall  be  done  to  all  and  each,  to  Abel  and  to 
Cain.  The  moral  instinct,  not  satisfied  on  earth, 
reaches  out  to  the  future  world,  and  in  an  ideal 
heaven  would  realize  ideal  justice.  But  even  there 
the  tyranny  of  able-minded  men  has  interfered, 
painting  immortality  in  such  guise  that  it  would  be 
a  curse  to  mankind.  Yet  the  instinct  of  justice 
prevails  above  it  all,  and  few  men  fear  to  meet  the 
eternal  Mother  of  us  all  in  heaven. 

We  need  a  great  and  conscious  development  of 
the  moral  element  in  man,  and  a  corresponding  ex- 
pansion of  justice  in  human  affairs ;  an  intentional 
application  thereof  to  individual,  domestic,  social, 
ecclesiastical,  and  political  life.  In  the  old  military 
civilization  that  was  not  possible ;  in  the  present 
industrial  civilization  it  is  not  thought  desirable 
by  the  mercantile  chiefs  of  church  and  State.  Hith- 
erto, the  actual  function  of  government,  so  far  as 
it  has  been  controlled  by  the  will  of  the  rulers, 
has  commonly  been  this:    To  foster   the  strong  at 


JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  91 

the  expense  of  the  weak,  to  protect  the  capitalist 
and  tax  the  laborer.  The  powerful  have  sought  a 
monopoly  of  development  and  enjoyment,  loving 
to  eat  their  morsel  alone.  Accordingly,  little  respect 
is  paid  to  absolute  justice  by  the  controlling  states- 
men of  the  Christian  world.  Not  conscience  and 
the  right  is  appealed  to,  but  prudence  and  the 
expedient  for  to-day.  Justice  is  forgotten  in  look- 
ing at  interest,  and  political  morality  neglected  for 
political  economy;  instead  of  national  organization 
of  the  ideal  right,  we  have  only  national  house- 
keeping. Hence  come  the  great  evils  of  civiliza- 
tion at  this  day,  and  the  questions  of  humanity, 
so  long  adjourned  and  put  off,  that  it  seems  they 
can  only  be  settled  with  bloodshed.  Nothing  rests 
secure  save  in  the  law  of  God.  The  thrones  of 
Christian  Europe  tremble ;  a  little  touch  and  they 
fall.  Capitalists  are  alarmed,  lest  gold  ill  got 
should  find  an  equilibrium.  Behind  the  question 
of  royalty,  nobility,  slavery,  —  relics  of  the  old  feu- 
dalism, —  there  are  other  questions  yet  more  radi- 
cal, soon  to  be  asked  and  answered. 

There  has  been  a  foolish  neglect  of  moral  cul- 
ture throughout  all  Christendom.  The  leading 
classes  have  not  valued  it ;  with  them  the  mind 
was  thought  better  than  the  moral  sense,  and  con- 
science a  dowdy.  It  is  so  in  the  higher  education 
of  New  England,  as  of  Europe.     These  men  seek 


92  JUSTICE   AND    THE    CONSCIENCE. 

the  uses  of  truth,  not  truth  itself;  they  scorn  duty 
and  its  higher  law;  to  be  ignorant  and  weak- 
minded  is  thought  worse  than  to  be  voluntarily 
unjust  and  wicked;  idiocy  of  conscience  is  often 
thought  an  excellence,  is  never  out  of  fashion. 
Morality  is  thought  no  part  of  piety  in  the  Church, 
it  "  saves "  no  man ;  ';  belief"  does  that  with  the 
Protestants,  "  sacraments  "  with  the  Catholics ;  it  is 
no  part  of  politics  in  the  State, — not  needed  to  save 
the  nation  or  the  soul. 

Of  late  years  there  has  been  a  great  expansion 
of  intellectual  development  in  Europe  and  America. 
Has  the  moral  development  kept  pace  with  it?  Is 
the  desire  to  apply  justice  to  its  universal  function 
as  common  and  intense  with  the  more  intellectual 
classes,  as  the  desire  to  apply  special  truths  to  their 
function  ?  By  no  means.  We  have  organized  our 
schemes  of  intellectual  culture  :  it  is  the  function 
of  schools,  colleges,  learned  societies,  and  all  the 
special  institutions  for  agriculture,  manufactures, 
and  commerce,  to  develop  the  understanding  and 
apply  it  to  various  concrete  interests.  No  analogous 
pains  have  been  taken  with  the  culture  of  con- 
science. France  has  the  only  academy  for  moral 
science  in  the  Christian  world!  We  have  statistical 
societies  for  interest,  no  moral  societies  for  justice. 
We  rely  only  on  the  moral  instinct;  its  develop- 
ment is  accidental,  not  a  considerable  part  of  our 


JUSTICE    AND    THE    CONSCIENCE.  93 

plan ;  or  else  is  involuntary,  no  part  of  the  will  of 
the  most  intellectual  class.  There  is  no  college  for 
the  conscience. 

Do  the  churches  accomplish  this  educational  pur- 
pose for  the  moral  sense  ?  The  popular  clergy  think 
miracles  better  than  morality ;  and  have  even  less 
justice  than  truth.  They  justify  the  popular  sins  in 
the  name  of  God ;  are  the  allies  of  despotism  in  all 
its  forms,  military  or  industrial.  Oppression  by  the 
sword  and  oppression  by  capital  successively  find 
favor  with  them.  In  America  there  are  two  com- 
mon ecclesiastical  defences  of  African  slavery  :  The 
negroes  are  the  descendants  of  Ham,  who  laughed 
at  his  father  Noah,  —  overtaken  with  drink,  —  and 
so  it  is  right  that  Ham's  children,  four  thousand 
years  later,  should  be  slaves  to  the  rest  of  the  world  ; 
Slavery  teaches  the  black  men  "  our  blessed  relig- 
ion." Such  is  ecclesiastical  justice ;  and  hence 
judge  the  value  of  the  churches  to  educate  the 
conscience  of  mankind !  It  is  strange  how  little  the 
clergy  of  Christendom,  for  fifteen  hundred  years,  have 
done  for  the  morality  of  the  world  ;  much  for  deco- 
rum, little  for  justice ;  a  deal  for  ecclesiastical  cere- 
mony, but  what  for  ecclesiastical  righteousness? 
They  put  worship  with  the  knee  before  the.  natural 
piety  of  the  conscience.  "  Trusting  in  good  works  " 
is  an  offence  to  the  Christian  Church,  as  well 
Protestant  as  Catholic. 


9-i  JUSTICE   AND   THE   CONSCIENCE. 

In    Europe   the   consequences   of  this    defect   of 
moral  culture  have  become  alarming,  even  to  such 
as  fear  only  for  money.     That  intellectual  culture, 
which  was  once  the  cherished  monopoly  of  the  rich, 
has  got  diffused  amongst  wide  ranks  of  men,  who 
once  sat   in    the    shadow   of    intellectual   darkness. 
There  is    no    development  of  conscience   to   corre- 
spond therewith.      The  Protestant  clergy  have  not 
enlightened  the  people  on  the  science   of  religion. 
The  Catholics  had  little  light  to  spare,  and  that  was 
spent  in  exhibiting   « the   holy  coat  of  Treves,"  or 
images  of  "  the  Virgin,"  and  in  illuminating  cardi- 
nals and  popes  set  in  the  magic-lantern  of  the  great 
ecclesiastical   show-box.     No    pains,    or   little,  have 
been  taken  with  the  moral  culture  of  the  people ; 
none  scientifically  and  for  the  sake  of  justice  and 
human  kind.    So  the  selfishness  of  the  rich  has  spread 
with  their  intellectual  culture.     The  few  have  long 
demanded   a   monopoly   for    themselves,   and   with 
their  thunder  blasted  the  mortal  life  of  the  prophets 
of  justice  sent  by  God  to  establish  peace  on  earth 
and  good-will  amongst  men.     Now  the  many  begin 
to  demand  a  monopoly  for  themselves.     Education, 
wealth,  political  power,  was   once  a  privilege,  and 
they  who  enjoyed  it  made  this  their  practical  motto : 
"Down    with   the   poor!"     The  feudal  system  fell 
before  Dr.  Faustus  and  his  printing-press.     Military 
civilization    slowly  gives  way  to  industrial.     Com- 


JUSTICE   AND    THE   CONSCIENCE.  95 

mon  schools  teach  men  to  read.  The  steam-press 
cheapens  literature  ;  the  complicated  tools  of  modern 
industry  make  the  shop  a  college  for  the  understand- 
ing; the  laborer  is  goaded  by  his  hate  of  wrong, 
which  is  the  passion  of  morality,  as  love  of  right  is 
the  affection  thereof;  —  he  sees  small  respect  for 
justice  in  church  or  State.  What  shall  save  him 
from  the  selfishness  about  him,  long  dignified  as 
philosophy,  sanctified  as  religion,  and  reverenced  as 
the  law  of  God !  Do  you  wonder  at  "  atheism " 
in  Germany ;  at  communism  in  France  ?  Such 
"  atheism  "  is  the  theory  of  the  Church  made 
popular ;  the  worst  communism  is  only  the  principle 
of  monopoly  translated  out  of  aristocracy  into  de- 
mocracy; the  song  of  the  noble  in  the  people's 
mouth.  The  hideous  cry,  "  Down  with  the  rich !  "  — 
is  that  an  astonishment  to  the  leaders  of  Europe, 
who  have  trod  down  the  poor  these  thousand  years  ? 
"When  ignorance,  moral  and  intellectual  stupidity, 
brought  only  servile  obedience  from  the  vassal,  the 
noble  took  delight  in  the  oppression  which  trod  his 
brother  down.  Now  numbers  are  power ;  that  is  the 
privilege  of  the  people,  and  if  the  people,  the  privi- 
leged class  of  the  future,  have  the  selfishness  of  the 
aristocracy,  what  shall  save  the  darling  dollars  of  the 
rich  ?  "  They  that  laughed  at  the  grovelling  worm, 
and  trod  on  him,  may  cry  and  howl  when  they  see 
the  stoop  of  the  flying  and  fiery-mouthed  dragon ! " 


96  JUSTICE   AND   THE    CONSCIENCE. 

The  leaders  of  modern  civilization  have  scorned 
justice.  The  chiefs  of  war,  of  industry,  and  the 
Church  are  joined  in  a  solidarity  of  contempt ;  in 
America,  not  harlots,  so  much  as  politicians  debauch 
the  land.  Conscience  has  been  left  out  of  the  list 
of  faculties  to  be  intentionally  developed  in  the 
places  of  honor.  Is  it  marvellous  if  men  find  their 
own  selfishness  fall  on  their  own  heads?  No  army 
of  special  constables  will  supply  the  place  of  mo- 
rality in  the  people.  If  they  do  not  reverence  justice, 
what  shall  save  the  riches  of  the  rich  ?  Ah  me ! 
even  the  dollar  flees  to  the  Infinite  God  for  protec- 
tion, and  bows  before  the  Higher  Law  its  worship- 
pers despise. 

What  moral  guidance  do  the  leading  classes  of 
men  offer  the  people  in  either  England,  —  the  Euro- 
pean or  American?  Let  the  laboring  men  of  Great 
Britain  answer ;  let  Ireland,  about  to  perish,  groan 
out  her  reply  ;  let  the  three  million  African  slaves 
bear  the  report  to  Heaven.  "  Ignorance  is  the 
mother  of  devotion,"  once  said  some  learned  fool ; 
monopolists  act  on  the  maxim.  Ignorance  of  truth, 
ignorance  of  right,  —  will  these  be  good  directors, 
think  you,  of  the  class  which  has  the  privilege 
of  numbers  and  their  multitudinous  agglomerated 
power  ?  "  Reverence  the  eternal  right,"  says  Con- 
science, "that  is  moral  piety!"  "Reap  as  you  sow," 
quoth  human  History.     Alas  for  a  church  without 


JUSTICE   AND    THE   CONSCIENCE.  97 

righteousness,  and  a  State  without  right !  All  his- 
tory shows  their  fate!  What  is  false  to  justice 
cannot  stand;  what  is  true  to  that  cannot  perish. 
Nothing  can  save  wrong. 

A  sentence  is  written  against  all  that  is  unjust, 
written  by  God  in  the  nature  of  man  and  the  nature 
of  the  universe,  because  it  is  in  the  nature  of  the 
Infinite  God.  Fidelity  to  your  faculties,  trust  in 
their  convictions,  that  is  justice  to  yourself;  a  life  in 
obedience  thereto,  that  is  justice  towards  men.  Tell 
me  not  of  successful  wrong.  The  gain  of  injustice 
is  a  loss,  its  pleasure  suffering.  Iniquity  seems  to 
prosper,  but  its  success  is  its  defeat  and  shame. 
The  knave  deceives  himself.  The  miser,  starving 
his  brother's  body,  starves  also  his  own  soul,  and  at 
death  shall  creep  out  of  his  great  estate  of  injustice, 
poor  and  naked  and  miserable.  Whoso  escapes  a 
duty  avoids  a  gain.  Outward  judgment  often  fails, 
inward  justice  never.  Let  a  man  try  to  love  the 
wrong,  and  do  the  wrong,  it  is  eating  stones,  and 
not  bread ;  the  swift  feet  of  justice  are  upon  him, 
following  with  woollen  tread,  and  her  iron  hands  are 
round  his  neck.  No  man  can  escape  from  this,  no 
more  than  from  himself. 

At  first  sight  of  the  consequences  of  justice, 
redressing  the  evils  of  the  world,  its  aspect  seems 
stern   and   awful.     Men  picture  the  palace  of  this 

9 


98  JUSTICE   AND   THE    CONSCIENCE. 

king  as  hell :  there  is  torment  and  anguish ;  the 
waters  are  in  trouble.  The  chariot  of  justice  seems 
a  car  of  Juggernaut  crushing  the  necks  of  men  ;  they 
cry  for  mercy.  But  look  again :  the  sternness  all  is 
gone ;  nothing  is  awful  there ;  the  palace  of  justice 
is  all  heaven,  as  before  a  hell ;  the  water  is  troubled 
only  by  an  angel,  and  to  heal  the  sick ;  the  fancied 
car  of  Juggernaut  is  the  triumphal  chariot  of  man- 
kind riding  forth  to  welfare.  With  swift  and  noise- 
less feet  justice  follows  the  transgressor  and  clutches 
the  iron  hand  about  his  neck;  it  was  to  save  him 
that  she  came  with  swift  and  noiseless  tread.  This 
is  the  angel  of  God  that  flies  from  east  to  west,  and 
where  she  stoops  her  broad  wings  it  is  to  bring  the 
counsel  of  God,  and  feed  mankind  with  angels' 
bread.  As  an  eagle  stirreth  up  her  nest,  from  her 
own  beak  to  feed  its  young,  broods  over  their  callow 
frame,  and  bears  them  on  her  wings,  teaching  them 
first  to  fly,  so  comes  justice  unto  men. 

Sometimes  men  fear  that  justice  will  fail,  wicked- 
ness appears  so  strong.  On  its  side  are  the  armies, 
the  thrones  of  power,  the  riches,  and  the  glory  of  the 
world.  Poor  men  crouch  down  in  despair.  Shall 
justice  fail  and  perish  out  from  the  world  of  men  ? 
shall  any  thing  that  is  wrong  continually  endure  ? 
When  attraction  fails  out  of  the  world  of  matter, 
when  God  fails   and   there   is   no  God,  then    shal^ 


JUSTICE   AND.  THE   CONSCIENCE.  99 

justice  fail,  then  shall  wrong  be  able  continually  to 
endure  ;  not  till  then. 

The  unity  of  the  material  world  is  beautiful,  kept 
by  attraction's  universal  force ;  temperance  in  the 
body  has  fair  effects,  and  wisdom  in  the  mind.  The 
face  of  Nature,  how  fair  it  is ;  the  face  of  strong 
and  healthy,  beauteous  manhood  is  a  dear  thing  to 
look  upon.  To  intellectual  eyes,  the  countenance  of 
truth  has  a  majestic  charm.  Wise  men,  with  culti- 
vated mind,  understanding,  imagination,  reason  well 
developed,  discovering  and  disclosing  truth  and 
beauty  to  mankind,  are  a  fair  spectacle.  But  I  love 
the  moral  side  of  Deity  yet  more;  love  God  as 
justice.  His  justice,  our  morality  working  with  that, 
shall  one  day  create  a  unity  amongst  all  men  more 
fair  than  the  face  of  Nature,  and  add  a  wondrous 
beauty,  wondrous  happiness,  to  this  great  family  of 
men.  Will  you  fear  lest  a  wrong  should  prove  im- 
mortal? So  far  as  any  thing  is  false,  or  wrong,  it  is 
weak;  so  far  as  true  and  right,  is  omnipotently 
strong.  Never  fear  that  a  just  thought  shall  fail  to 
be  a  thing ;  the  power  of  God,  the  wisdom  of  God, 
and  the  justice  of  God  are  on  its  side,  and  it 
cannot  fail, —  no  more  than  God  himself  can  perish. 
Wrong  is  the  accident  of  human  development. 
Right  is  of  the  substance  of  humanity,  justice  the 
goal  we  are  to  reach. 


100  JUSTICE   AND    THE   CONSCIENCE. 

But  in  human  affairs  the  justice  of  God  must 
work  by  human  means.  Men  are  the  measures 
of  God's  principles;  our  morality  the  instrument  of 
his  justice,  which  stilleth  alike  the  waves  of  the  sea, 
the  tumult  of  the  people,  and  the  oppressor's  brutal 
laugh.  Justice  is  the  idea  of  God,  the  ideal  of  man, 
the  rule  of  conduct  writ  in  the  nature  of  mankind. 
The  ideal  must  become  actual,  God's  thought  a 
human  thing,  made  real  in  a  reign  of  righteousness, 
and  a  kingdom  —  no,  a  Commonwealth  —  of  justice 
on  the  earth.  You  and  I  can  help  forward  that 
work.  God  will  not  disdain  to  use  our  prayers,  our 
self-denial,  and  the  little  atoms  of  justice  that  per- 
sonally belong  to  us,  to  establish  his  mighty  work,  — 
the  development  of  mankind. 

You  and  I  may  work  with  Him,  and,  as  on  the 
floor  of  the  Pacific  Sea  little  insects  lay  the  founda- 
tion of  firm  islands,  slowly  uprising  from  the  tropic 
wave, — the  ocean  working  with  their  humble  toil, 
—  so  you  and  I  in  our  daily  life,  in  house,  or  field, 
or  shop,  obscurely  faithful,  may  prepare  the  way  for 
the  republic  of  righteousness,  the  democracy  of 
justice  that  is  to  come.  Our  own  morality  shall 
bless  us  here ;  not  in  our  outward  life  alone,  but  in 
the  inward  and  majestic  life  of  conscience.  All  the 
justice  we  mature  shall  bless  us  here,  yea,  and  here- 
after ;  but  at  our  death  we  leave  it  added  to  the 
common   store  of   humankind.      Even   the   crumbs 


JUSTICE   AND    THE   CONSCIENCE.  101 

that  fall  from  our  table  may  save  a  brother's  life. 
You  and  I  may  help  deepen  the  channel  of  human 
morality  in  which  God's  justice  runs,  and  the  wrecks 
of  evil,  which  now  check  the  stream,  be  borne  off 
the  sooner  by  the  strong,  all-conquering  tide  of  right, 
the  river  of  God  that  is  full  of  blessing. 


IV. 

OF    LOVE    AND    THE    AFFECTIONS. 


Love  is  of  god.  —  1  John  iv.  7. 

Conscience  deals  with  universal  principles  of 
morals.  It  has  for  its  object  justice,  the  divine  law 
of  the  world,  to  be  made  ideal  in  the  consciousness 
of  mankind,  and  then  actual  in  the  facts  of  our  con- 
dition and  history.  The  affections  deal  with  per- 
sons; with  nothing  but  persons,  for  animate,  and 
even  inanimate,  things  get  invested  with  a  certain 
imaginary  personality  as  soon  as  they  become  objects 
of  affection.  Ideas  are  the  persons  of  the  intellect, 
and  persons  the  ideas  of  the  heart.  Persons  are  the 
central  point  of  the  affectional  world.  The  love  of 
persons  is  the  function  of  the  affections,  as  it  is  that 
of  the  mind  and  conscience  to  discover  and  accept 
truth  and  right. 

This  love  is  a  simple  fact  of  consciousness;  a 
simple   feeling,  not  capable  of  analysis,  not  easily 


IOVE    AND    THE    AFFECTIONS.  103 

described,  yet  not  likely  to  be  confounded  with  any 
other  fact  of  consciousness,  or  simple  feeling.  It  is 
not  directly  dependent  on  the  will,  so  is  free  from  all 
immediate  arbitrariness  and  caprice  of  volition.  It 
is  spontaneous,  instinctive,  disinterested,  not  seeking 
the  delight  of  the  loving  subject,  but  of  the  object 
loved.  So  it  is  not  a  desire  of  enjoying,  but  of  de- 
lighting. As  we  love  truth  for  itself,  justice  for  its 
own  sake,  so  we  love  persons  not  for  their  use,  but 
for  themselves ;  we  love,  them  independently  of  their 
convenience  to  us.  Love  is  its  own  satisfaction ;  it 
is  the  love  of  loving,  not  merely  of  enjoying,  an- 
other. 

Such  is  love  itself,  described  by  its  central  char- 
acter ;  but  it  appears  in  many  forms,  and  is  specifi- 
cally modified  by  the  character  and  condition  of  the 
person  loved,  the  object  of  affection ;  by  the  person 
who  loves,  the  loving  subject,  and  by  the  various 
passions  and  emotions  mingling  therewith.  So  it 
appears  as  fraternal,  filial,  connubial,  and  parental 
love;  as  friendship,  love  of  a  few  who  reciprocate 
the  feeling ;  as  charity,  love  of  the  needy  ;  as  patriot- 
ism, love  of  your  nation ;  and  a  philanthropy,  the 
love  of  all  mankind  without  respect  to  kin  or  coun- 
try. In  all  these  cases  love  is  the  same  thing  in 
kind,  but  modified  specifically  by  other  emotions 
which  connect  themselves  with  it.  Love  is  the  piety 
of  the  affections. 


104  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

Of  course  there  are  not  only  forms  of  love,  where 
the  quality  is  modified,  but  degrees  which  measure 
the  different  quantity  thereof.  The  degree  depends 
on  the  subject,  and  also  on  the  object,  of  love. 

There  is  a  state  of  consciousness  in  which  we  wish 
no  ill  to  a  man,  but  yet  wish  him  no  good.  That  is 
the  point  of  affectional  indifference.  The  first  re- 
move above  that  may  be  regarded  as  the  lowest 
degree  of  love,  hardly  worthy  of  the  name,  a  sort  of 
zoophytic  affection.  You  scarcely  know  whether  to 
call  it  love  or  not. 

The  highest  degree  of  love  is  that  state  of  feeling 
in  which  you  are  willing  to  abandon  all,  your  com- 
fort, convenience,  and  life,  for  the  sake  of  another, 
to  sacrifice  your  delight  in  him  to  his  delight  in  you, 
^nd  to  do  this  not  merely  by  volition,  as  an  act  of 
conscience,  and  in  obedience  to  a  sense  of  duty, — 
not  merely  by  impulse,  in  obedience  to  blind  feeling, 
as  an  act  of  instinct,  —  but  to  do  all  this  consciously, 
yet   delightedly,   with    a   knowledge  of  the   conse- 
quences, by  a  movement  which  is  not  barely  instinc- 
tive, and  not  merely  of  the  will,  but  spontaneous ; 
to  do  all  this  not  merely  out  of  gratitude  for  favors 
received,  for  a  reward  paid  in  advance,  nor  for  the 
•sake  of   happiness  in   heaven,  a  recompense    after- 
wards ;  with   no    feeling  of  grateful    obligation,  no 
wish  for  a  recompense,  but  from  pure,  entire,  and 
disinterested  affection. 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  105 

This  highest  ideal  degree  of  love  is  sometimes 
attained,  but,  like  all  the  great  achievements  of  hu- 
man nature,  it  is  rare.     There  are  few  masterpieces 
in    sculpture,    painting,    architecture,    in    poetry    or 
music.     The  ideal  and  actual  are  seldom  the  same 
in  any  performance  of  mankind.     It  is  rarely  that 
human  nature  rises  to  its  highest  ideal  mark ;  some 
great  hearts  notch  the  mountains  and  leave  their  line 
high  up  above  the  heads  of  ordinary  men,  —  a  history 
and  a  prophecy.     Yet  the  capacity  for  this  degree 
of  love  belongs  to  the  nature  of  man  as  man.     The 
human  excellence  which  is  actual  in  Jesus,  is  possi- 
ble in  Iscariot ;  give  him  time  and  opportunity,  the 
man  will  appear  in  him  also.     I  doubt  not  that  the 
worst   man    ever    hanged   or   even   honored   for   his 
crime,  will  one  day  attain  a  degree  of  love  which  the 
loftiest  men  now  cannot  comprehend.     This  power 
of  loving  to  this  degree,  it  seems  to  me,  is  generic, 
of  the  nature  of  man ;  the  absence  of  it  is  a  mark 
of  immaturity,  of  greenness,  and    clownishness    of 
the  heart.     But  at  this  day  the  power  of  affection  is 
distributed  as  diversely  as  power  of   mind  or  con- 
science, and  so  the  faculty  of  loving  is  by  no  means 
the  same  in  actual  men.     All  are  not  at  once  capa- 
ble of  the  same  quantity  of  love. 

There  are  also  different  degrees  of  love  occasioned 
by  the  character  of  the  object  of  affection.  All  can- 
not  receive  the  same  quantity.     Thus  yon  cannot 


106  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

love  a  dog  so  well  as  a  man,  nor  a  base,  mean  man 
so  much  as  a  great,  noble  man,  with  the  excellences 
of  mind  and  conscience,  heart  and  soul.  Can  you 
and  I  love  an  Arnold  as  well  as  a  Washington  ?  a 
kidnapper  as  well  as  a  philanthropist?  God  may 
do  so,  not  you  and  I.  So  with  finite  beings  the 
degree  of  love  is  affected  by  the  character  of  both 
the  subject  and  the  object  of  affection. 


It  is  unfortunate  that  we  have  but  one  word  in 
English  to  express  affectional  action  in  respect  to 
myself  and  to  other  men  ;  we  speak  of  a  man  loving 
himself,  and  loving  another.  But  it  is  plain  that  I 
cannot  love  myself  at  all  in  the  sense  that  I  love 
another  ;  for  self-love  is  intransitive,  —  subject  and 
object  are  identical.  It  is  one  thing  to  desire  my 
own  delight,  and  something  quite  opposite  to  desire 
the  delight  of  another.  So,  for  the  sake  of  clearness, 
I  will  use  the  words  Self-love  for  the  normal  feeling 
of  a  man  towards  himself;  Selfishness  for  the  ab- 
normal and  excessive  degree  of  this;  and  Love  for 
the  normal  feeling  towards  others. 

Self-love  is  the  lesser  cohesive  attraction  which 
keeps  the  man  whole  and  a  unit,  which  is  necessary 
for  his  consistency  and  existence  as  an  individual. 
It  is  a  part  of  morality,  and  is  to  the  man  what 
impenetrability  is  to  the  atoms  of  matter,  and  what 


LOVE    AND    THE    AFFECTIONS.  107 

the  centripetal  force  is  to  the  orbs  of  heaven ;  with- 
out it,  the  man's  personality  would  soon  be  lost  in 
the  press  of  other  men. 

Selfishness  is  the  excess  of  this  self-love ;  no 
longer  merely  conservative  of  myself,  I  become  inva- 
sive, destructive  of  others,  and  appropriate  what 
is  theirs  to  my  own  purposes. 

Love  is  the  greater  gravitation  which  unites  me 
to  others ;  the  expansive  and  centrifugal  power  that 
extends  my  personality,  and  makes  me  find  my  de- 
light in  others,  and  desire  them  to  have  theirs  in  me. 
In  virtue  of  this  I  feel  for  the  sorrows  of  another 
man ;  they  become,  in  some  measure,  my  sorrows, 
just  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  my  love  ;  his  joys 
also  are  my  joys  just  in  the  same  degree  ;  I  am 
gladdened  with  his  delights,  honored  in  his  honors  ; 
and  so  my  consciousness  is  multiplied  by  all  the 
persons  that  I  love,  for  my  affectional  personality  is 
extended  to  them  all,  and  with  a  degree  of  power 
exactly  proportionate  to  my  degree  of  love.  So 
affection  makes  one  man  into  many  men,  as  it  were. 

The  highest  action  of  any  power  is  in  combina- 
tion with  all  the  rest.  Yet  there  is  much  imperfect 
action  of  the  faculties,  working  severally,  not  jointly. 
The  affections  may  act  independent  of  the  con- 
science, as  it  of  them.  It  is  related  that  an  eminent 
citizen  of  Athens  had  a  son  who  committed  an 
offence  for  which  the  law  demanded  the  two  eyes 


108  LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS. 

of  the  offender ;  the  father  offered  one  of  his  to  save 
one  of  his  son's.  Here  his  heart,  not  his  conscience, 
prompted  the  deed.  When  the  affections  thus  con- 
trol the  conscience,  we  have  the  emotion  called 
Mercy,  which  is  the  preponderance  of  love  for  a 
person,  not  love  for  right,  of  love  for  the  concrete 
man  over  the  abstract  idea  of  justice.  In  a  normal 
condition,  it  seems  to  me  that  love  of  persons  is  a 
little  in  advance  of  love  of  the  abstract  right,  and 
that  spontaneous  love  triumphs  over  voluntary 
morality ;  the  heart  carries  the  day  before  the 
conscience.  This  is  so  in  most  women,  who  are 
commonly  fairer  examples  of  the  natural  power  of 
both  the  moral  and  affectional  faculties,  and  repre- 
sent the  natural  tendency  of  human  nature  better 
than  men.  I  think  they  seldom  sacrifice  a  person 
to  an  abstract  rule  of  conduct ;  or  at  least,  if  there 
is  a  collision  between  conscience  and  the  heart,  with 
them  the  heart  carries  the  day.  Non-resistants, 
having  a  rule  of  conduct  which  forbids  them  to  hurt 
another,  will  yet  do  this  for  a  wife  or  child,  though 
not  for  themselves,  their  love  being  greater  than 
their  selfishness.  This  is  so  common  that  it  seems 
a  rule  of  nature,  —  that  the  affectional  is  a  little 
stronger  than  the  moral  instinct,  and  where  both 
have  received  due  culture,  and  there  is  still  a  col- 
lision between  the  two,  that  mercy  is  the  law.  But 
here   no  private  love   should  prevail  against   right, 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  109 

and  only  universal  love  come  in  to  its  aid  to  supply 
the  defect  of  conscience.  Brutus,  so  the  story  goes, 
finds  his  son  committing  a  capital  offence,  and 
orders  his  head  strack  off,  sacrificing  his  private  and 
paternal  love  to  his  universal  and  human  love  of 
justice,  his  love  of  a  special  man  to  his  love  of  what 
is  right  for  all  men.     This  is  as  it  should  be. 

Conscience  may  be  cultivated  in  an  exclusive 
manner  to  the  neglect  of  the  affections.  Then 
conscience  is  despotic ;  the  man  always  becomes 
hard  and  severe,  a  stern  father,  a  cold  neighbor,  a 
harsh  judge,  a  cruel  magistrate.  He  will  err  often, 
but  always  on  the  side  of  vengeance.  Love  im- 
proves the  quality  of  finite  morality,  for  it  is  the 
same  as  divine  justice.  Absolute  justice  and  abso- 
lute love  are  never  antagonistic,  but  identical. 

The  affections  may  be  cultivated  at  the  expense 
of  conscience.  This  often  happens  with  such  as 
limit  the  range  of  their  love  to  a  few  friends,  to 
their  own  family,  class,  or  nation.  The  world  is 
full  of  examples  of  this.  Here  is  one  who  loves 
her  own  family  with  intense  love,  —  her  husband, 
children,  grandchildren,  and  collateral  relations, — 
the  love  always  measured  by  their  propinquity  to 
her.  Like  the  crow  in  the  fable,  she  thinks  her  own 
young  the  fairest  of  the  fair,  heedless  of  their  vul- 

10 


110  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

garity,  and  worldly  and  ignoble  materialism.  She 
is  generous  to  them,  no  she-crow  more  bounteous 
to  her  young,  but  no  hawk  was  ever  more  niggardly 
to  all  beyond.  Here  neglect  of  justice  and  scorn  of 
conscience  have  corrupted  her  affections ;  and  her 
love  is  only  self-love,  —  for  she  loves  these  but  as 
limbs  of  herself,  —  and  has  degenerated  into  selfish- 
ness in  a  wider  form,  not  simple,  but  many-headed 
selfishness. 

I  once  knew  of  a  man  who  was  a  slave-trader 
on  the  Atlantic,  and  a  proverb  for  cruelty  among 
the  felons  of  that  class ;  he  was  rich,  and  remark- 
ably affectionate  in  his  own  family ;  he  studied 
the  comfort  of  his  daughters  and  wife,  was  self- 
denying  for  their  sake.  Yet  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
break  up  a  thousand  homes  in  Africa,  that  he  might 
adorn  his  own  in  New  England.  The  lion,  the 
tiger,  the  hyena,  each  is  kind  to  his  whelps,  —  for 
instinctive  love  affects  the  beast  also.  No  man 
has  universal  love  ;  conscience  gives  the  rule  thereof, 
and  so  in  applying  justice  applies  God's  universal 
love  to  that  special  case.  Seek  to  exercise  love 
without  justice,  and  you  injure  some  one. 

The  same  form  of  affection  appears  on  a  larger 
scale  in  the  members  of  a  class  in  society,  or  a  sect 
in  religion  ;  it  leads  to  kindliness  within  the  circle 
of  its  range,  but  intense  cruelty  is  often  practised 
beyond   that   limit.       All   the    aristocracies    of    the 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  Ill 

world,  the  little  sects  of  Christendom,  and  the  great 
sects  of  the  human  race,  furnish  examples  of  this. 

What  is  called  patriotism  is  another  form  of  the 
same  limited  love,  —  a  culture  of  the  affections 
without  regard  to  justice.  Hence  it  has  been  held 
patriotic  to  build  up  your  country  by  the  ruin  of 
another  land,  to  love  Jacob  and  hate  Esau.  This 
feeling  is  of  continual  occurrence.  "  Lands  inter- 
sected by  a  narrow  frith  abhor  each  other,"  cities 
that  are  rivals  in  trade  seek  to  ruin  each  other ; 
nations  do  the  same. 

In  all  these  cases,  where  ove  is  limited  to  the 
family,  class,  sect,  or  nation,  the  aim  is  this  :  Mutu- 
ality of  love  within  the  narrow  circle ;  without 
its  range,  mutuality  of  selfishness.  Thus  love  is 
deemed  only  a  privilege  of  convention  and  for  a 
few,  arbitrarily  limited  by  caprice ;  not  a  right,  of 
nature  and  for  all,  the  extension  thereof  to  be  lim- 
ited only  by  the  power,  not  the  will,  of  the  man 
who  loves. 

All  the  above  are  common  forms  of  limited 
affection.  The  domestic,  social,  ecclesiastical,  and 
political  institutions  of  the  world,  the  educational 
and  commercial  machinery  of  the  world,  tend  to 
produce  this  result.  All  the  religions  of  the  world 
have  practically  fostered  this  mistake,  by  starting 
with  the  idea,  that  God  loved  best  the  men  who 
worshipped  Him  in  a  certain  conventional  form. 


112  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

Bat  this  expansive  and  centrifugal  power  may- 
be cultivated  to  the  neglect  of  natural  and  well- 
proportioned  self-love.  This  also  is  a  defect,  for 
the  conservative  or  self-preserving  power  is  quite  as 
necessary  as  the  beneficent  and  expansive  power. 
Impenetrability  is  the  necessary  concomitant  of 
attraction.  The  individual  is  first  an  integer, 
then  a  fraction  of  society ;  he  must  keep  his  per- 
sonal integrity  and  discreteness  of  person,  and  not 
be  lost  in  the  press  and  crowd  of  other  persons. 
What  is  true  of  bodies  is  not  less  so  of  spirits. 
Here  is  a  man  with  so  little  self-love,  that  his  per- 
sonality seems  lost ;  he  is  no  person,  but  now 
this  man,  now  that,  —  a  free  port  of  trade,  where 
all  individualities  are  unloaded  and  protected  ;  but 
he  has  none.  His  circumference  is  everywhere ; 
his  centre  nowhere.  He  keeps  other  men's  vine- 
yards, not  his  own.  This  is  a  fault ;  doubtless  a 
rare  one,  still  a  fault  which  destroys  the  individual 
character  of  the  man. 

There  is,  doubtless,  a  large  difference  amongst 
men  in  respect  to  the  original  power  of  the  affec- 
tions,—  a  difference  of  nature  ;  a  great  difference  in 
respect  to  the  acquired  power  of  love,  —  a  difference 
of  culture ;  a  difference,  also,  in  respect  to  the  mode 
of  culture  of  the  heart,  which  may  be  developed 
jointly  with  mind  and  conscience,  or  independent  of 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  113 

them,  —  a  difference  in  proportion.  Thus,  practi- 
cally, the  affectional  power  of  men  varies  as  much 
as  the  intellectual  or  the  moral  power. 


Look  at  the  place  which  the  affections  occupy  in 
the  nature  of  man.  In  point  of  time  they  precede 
the  intellectual  and  moral  powers  in  their  order  of 
development,  they  have  a  wider  range  in  the  world 
than  those  other  faculties.  You  find  affection  in 
animals.  In  some,  love  is  very  powerful.  True,  it 
appears  there  as  rudimentary,  and  for  a  short  time, 
as  in  birds,  grouping  them  into  brief  cohesions.  In 
some  animals  it  is  continual,  yet  not  binding  one 
individual  to  another  in  a  perpetual  combination, 
but  grouping  many  individuals  into  a  flock.  The 
flock  remains  ;  all  the  individuals  sustain  a  constant 
relation  to  the  flock,  but  most  unconstant  relations 
to  one  another,  —  the  male  and  female  parting 
fellowship  when  the  annual  season  of  passion  is 
over,  the  parents  neglecting  their  child  as  soon  as  it 
outgrows  the  mother's  care.  Throughout  the  animal 
world  love  does  not  appear  to  exist  for  its  own  sake, 
but  only  as  a  means  to  a  material  end;  now  to 
create,  then  to  protect,  the  individual  and  the  race. 
Besides,  it  is  purely  instinctive,  not  also  self-con- 
scious and  voluntary  action.  The  animal  seems  not 
an  agent,  but  only  a  tool  of  affection,  his  love  neces- 

10* 


114  LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS. 

sitated,  not  spontaneous.     Accordingly,  in  its  more 
permanent   forms,   love   is    merely   gregarious,    and 
does  not  come  to  individual  sociality ;  it  seems  but 
a    more    subtle    mode    of   gravitation.      A   herd   of 
buffaloes  is  only  an  aggregation  of  members,  not  a 
society  of  free  individuals,  who  group  from  choice. 
Friendship,  I  think,  never  appears  amongst  animals, 
excepting  such  as  are  under  the  eye  of  man,  and 
have,  in    some    manner   not   easily  understood,  ac- 
quired his  habits.     The  animal  does  not  appear  to 
have  private  affinities,  and  to  attach  himself  to  this 
or  that  fellow-being  with  the  discrimination  of  love ; 
development  of  the  affections  is  never  sought  for  as 
a  thing  good  in  itself,  but  only  as  a  means  to  some 
other  good. 

With  man  there  is  this  greater  gravitation  of  men 
into  masses  ;  which,  without  doubt,  is  at  first  as 
instinctive  as  the  grouping  of  bees  or  beavers ;  but 
man  is  capable  of  modifying  the  action  of  this  gre- 
garious instinct  so,  on  the  one  side,  as  to  form 
minute  cohesions  of  friendship,  wherein  each  follows 
his  private  personal  predilections,  his  own  elective 
affinities  ;  and,  also,  on  the  other,  to  form  vast  asso- 
ciations of  men  gravitating  into  a  nation,  ruled  by  a 
common  will;  and  one  day  we  shall,  no  doubt, 
group  all  these  nations  into  one  great  family  of 
races,  with  a  distinct  self-consciousness  of  universal 
brotherhood. 


LOVE    AND    THE    AFFECTIONS.  115 

It  is  instructive  to  look  on  the  rudimentary  love 
in  animals,  and  see  the  beginnings  of  human  na- 
ture, as  it  were,  so  low  down,  and  watch  the  suc- 
cessive risings  in  successive  creations.  It  helps  us 
to  see  the  unity  of  the  world,  and  also  to  foretell 
the  development  of  human  nature ;  for  what  is  there 
accomplished  by  successive  creation  of  new  races, 
with  us  takes  place  by  the  continual  development  of 
the  same  individual. 

It  is  according  to  the  order  of  nature,  that  the 
power  to  love  should  be  developed  before  the  power 
to  think.  All  things  with  us  begin  with  a  feeling ; 
next  enlarge  to  an  idea ;  then  take  the  form  of  ac- 
tion, the  mind  mediating  between  the  inward  senti- 
ment and  the  outward  deed.  We  delight  in  love 
long  before  we  have  any  conscious  joy  in  truth  or 
justice.  In  childhood  we  are  acquainted  with  per- 
sons before  we  know  things ;  indeed,  things  are 
invested  with  a  dim  personality  in  the  mind  of 
children  and  of  savages.  We  know  father  and 
mother  long  before  we  have  any  notion  of  justice 
or  of  truth.  The  spontaneous  development  of  the 
heart  in  children  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  phe- 
nomena in  nature.  The  child  has  self-love,  but  no 
selfishness;  his  nebulous  being  not  yet  solidified  to 
the    impenetrability   which    is    to    come.      His    first 


116      .  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

joys  are  animal,  the  next  affectional,  the  delight  of 
loving  and  of  being  loved  ! 

Indeed,  with    most   men   the    affections  take  the 
lead  of  all  the  spiritual  powers  ;  only  they  act  in  a 
confined  sphere  of  the  family,  class,  sect,  or  nation. 
Men   trust   the    heart    more    than   the   head.     The 
mass  of  men  have   more  confidence  in   a  man  of 
great  affection  than  in   one  of  great  thought;  par- 
don is  commonly  popular,  mercy  better  loved  than 
severity.     Men  rejoice  when  the  murderer  is  arrest- 
ed; but  shout  at  his  acquittal  of  the  crime.      The 
happiness  of  the  greater  part  of  men  comes  from 
affectional  more  than  intellectual  or  moral  sources. 
Hence  the  abundant  interest  felt  in  talk  about  per- 
sons, the  popular  fondness  for  personal  anecdotes, 
biographies,     ballads,     love-stories,    and     the    like. 
The  mass    of  men  love    the  person   of  their  great 
man,  not  his    opinions,  and  care   more   to    see  his 
face  and  hear  his  voice  than  to  know  his  ideas  of 
truth  and  of  justice.     It  is  so  with  religious  teachers. 
Men  sympathize  with  the  person  before  they  take 
his  doctrine.     Hence  the  popular  fondness  for  por- 
traits of  great  men,  for  their  autographs,  and  even 
for   relics.     The  person  of  Jesus    of   Nazareth  has 
left  a  much  greater  impression  on  the  hearts  of  men, 
than  his  doctrines  have  made  on  the  mind  and  con- 
science of  Christendom.     For  this  reason,  religious 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  117 

pictures  preserve  scenes  which  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  truth  or  the  right  that  the  man  repre- 
sented, but  are  merely  personal  details,  often  desti- 
tute of  outward  beauty,  of  no  value  to  the  mind,  of 
much  to  the  affections.  This  explains  the  popular 
fondness  for  stories  and  pictures  of  the  sufferings  of 
martyrs.  A  crucifix  is  nothing  to  the  mind  and 
conscience  ;  —  how  much  to  the  heart  of  Christen- 
dom !  Hence,  too,  men  love  to  conceive  of  God  in 
the  person  of  a  man. 

Now  and  then  you  find  a  man  of  mere  intellectual 
or  moral  power,  who  takes  almost  his  whole  delight 
in  the  exercise  of  his  mind  or  conscience.  Such  men 
are  rare  and  wonderful,  but  by  no  means  admirable. 

Without  the  culture  of  the  affections  life  is  poor 
and  unsatisfactory ;  truth  seems  cold,  and  justice 
stern.  Let  a  man  have  the  piety  of  the  body,  of  the 
mind  and  conscience,  it  is  not  satisfactory  without 
the  piety  of  the  heart.  Let  him  have  this  also,  and 
what  a  world  of  delight  it  opens  to  him ! 

Take  the  whole  population  of  Christendom,  there 
are  but  one  or  two  in  a  thousand  who  have  much 
delight  in  intellectual  pursuits,  who  find  a  deep  and 
reconciling  joy  in  science,  or  literature,  or  any  art ; 
even  music,  the  most  popular  of  all,  has  a  narrow 
range.  But  almost  every  one  has  a  delight  in  the 
affections  which  quite  transcends  his  intellectual  joy. 
When  a  new  book  comes  into  being,  if  it  be  brave 


118  LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS. 

and  good,  it  will  quicken  the  progress  of  mankind ; 
men  rejoice,  and  the  human  race  slowly  folds  to  its 
bosom  the  works  of  Homer,  Dante,  Shakspeare, 
Milton,  and  will  not  willingly  let  them  die.  When 
a  new  child  is  born  into  some  noble  and  half-starved 
family,  it  diminishes  their  "  comforts,"  it  multiplies 
their  toil,  it  divides  their  loaf,  it  crowds  their  bed,  and 
shares  the  unreplenished  fire ;  but  with  what  joy  is 
it  welcomed  there!  Men  of  great  genius,  who  can 
judge  the  world  by  thought,  feel  less  delight  at  the 
arrival  of  some  great  poet  at  his  mind's  estate,  than 
many  a  poor  mother  feels  at  the  birth  of  a  new  soul 
into  the  world ;  far  less  than  she  feels  in  the  rude 
affection  of  her  home,  naked,  comfortless,  and  cold. 
I  know  there  is  a  degradation  caused  by  poverty, 
when  the  heart  dies  out  of  the  man,  and  "  the 
mother  hath  sodden  her  own  child."  But  such  de- 
pravity is  against  nature,  and  only  takes  place  when 
physical  suffering  has  worn  off  the  human  qualities, 
one  by  one,  till  only  impenetrability  is  left. 

You  find  men  that  are  ignorant,  rich  men  too  ; 
and  they  are  not  wholly  ashamed  of  it.  They  say, 
"  Early  circumstances  hindered  my  growth  of  mind, 
for  I  was  poor.  You  may  pity,  but  you  should  not 
blame  me."  If  you  should  accuse  a  man  of  lacking 
heart,  of  having  no  culture  of  affection,  every  one 
would  feel  it  was  a  great  reproach,  and,  if  true,  a 
fault  without  excuse.  No  man  ever  confesses  this, 
—  a  sin  against  human  nature. 


LOVE    AND    THE    AFFECTIONS.  119 

All  men  need  something  to  poetize  and  idealize 
their  life  a  little,  something  which  they  value  for 
more  than  its  use,  and  which  is  a  symbol  of  their 
emancipation  from  the  mere  materialism  and 
drudgery  of  daily  life.  Rich  men  attempt  to  do 
this  with  beautiful  houses,  with  costly  furniture, 
with  sumptuous  food,  and  "  wine  too  good  for  the 
tables  of  pontiffs,"  thereby  often  only  thickening 
and  gilding  the  chain  which  binds  the  soul  to  earth. 
Some  men  idealize  their  life  a  little  with  books, 
music,  flowers ;  with  science,  poetry,  and  art ;  with 
thought.  But  such  men  are  comparatively  rare, 
even  in  Scotland  and  New  England,  — two  or  three 
in  the  hundred,  not  more.  In  America  the  cheap 
newspaper  is  the  most  common  instrument  used  for 
this  purpose, — a  thing  not  without  great  value. 
But  the  majority  of  men  do  this  idealizing  by  the 
affections,  which  furnish  the  chief  poetry  of  their 
life,  —  the  wife  and  husband  delighting  in  one 
another,  both  in  their  children.  Burns  did  not  ex- 
aggerate in  his  Cotter's  Saturday  Night,  when  he 
painted  the  laborer's  joy  : 

"  His  wee  bit  ingle,  blinkin'  bonnily, 

His  clean  hearth-stane,  his  thriftie  wifie's  smile, 
The  lisping  infant  prattling  on  his  knee. 
Does  a'  his  weary  kiaugh  and  care  beguile, 
An'  makes  him  quite  forget  his  labor  an'  his  toil." 


120  LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS. 

I  have  heard  a  boorish  pedant  wonder  how  a 
woman  could  spend  so  many  years  of  her  life  with 
little  children,  and  be  content !  In  her  satisfaction 
he  found  a  proof  of  her  "  inferiority,"  and  thought 
her  but  the  "  servant  of  a  wooden  cradle,"  herself 
almost  as  wooden.  But  in  that  gentle  companion- 
ship she  nursed  herself  and  fed  a  higher  faculty 
than  our  poor  pedant,  with  his  sophomoric  wit, 
had  yet  brought  to  consciousness,  and  out  of  her 
wooden  cradle  got  more  than  he  had  learned  to 
know.  A  physician  once,  with  unprofessional  im- 
piety, complained  that  we  are  not  born  men,  but 
babies.  He  did  not  see  the  value  of  infancy  as  a 
delight  to  the  mature,  and  for  the  education  of  the 
heart.  At  one  period  of  life  we  need  objects  of 
instinctive  passion,  at  another,  of  instinctive  benev- 
olence without  passion. 

I  am  not  going  to  undervalue  the  charm  of  wis- 
dom, nor  the  majestic  joy  which  comes  from  loving 
principles  of  right;  but  if  I  could  have  only  one 
of  them,  give  me  the  joy  of  the  affections,  —  my 
delight  in  others,  theirs  in  me,  —  the  joy  of  delight- 
ing, rather  than  the  delight  of  enjoying.  Here 
is  a  woman  with  large  intellect,  and  attainments 
which  match  her  native  powers,  but  with  a  genius 
for  love,  developed  in  its  domestic,  social,  patriotic, 
human  form,  with  a  wealth  of  affection  which  sur- 


LOVE    AND    THE    AFFECTIONS.  121 

passes  even  her  affluence  of  intellect.  Her  chief 
delight  is  to  bless  the  men  who  need  her  blessing. 
Naturalists  carry  mind  into  matter,  and  seek  the 
eternal  truth  of  God  in  the  perishing  forms  of  the 
fossil  plant,  or  the  evanescent  tides  of  the  sea ;  she 
carries  love  into  the  lanes  and  kennels  of  society,  to 
give  bread  to  the  needy,  eyes  to  the  blind,  mind 
to  the  ignorant,  and  a  soul  to  men  floating  and 
weltering  in  this  sad  pit  of  society.  I  do  not  under- 
value intellect  in  any  of  its  nobler  forms,  but  if 
God  gave  me  my  choice  to  have  either  the  vast 
intellect  of  a  Newton,  an  Aristotle,  a  Shakspeare,  a 
Homer,  the  ethical  insight  of  the  great  legislators, 
the  moral  sense  of  Moses,  or  Menu,  the  conscience 
of  men  who  discover  justice  and  organize  unalien- 
able right  into  human  institutions,  —  or  else  to  take 
the  heroic  heart  which  so  loves  mankind,  and  I 
were  to  choose  what  brought  its  possessor  the 
greatest  joy,  —  I  would  surely  take,  not  the  great 
head,  but  the  great  heart,  the  power  of  love  before 
the  power  of  thought. 

I  know  we  often  envy  the  sons  of  genius,  men 
with  tall  heads  and  brain  preternaturally  delicate 
and  nice,  thinking  God  partial.  They  are  not  to> 
be  envied :  the  top  of  Mount  Washington  is  very 
lofty;  it  far  transcends  the  neighboring  hills,  and 
overlooks  the  mountain  tops  from  the  Mississippi 
to  the  Atlantic  main,  and  has  no  fellow  from  the 

11 


122  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

Northern  Sea  down  to  the  Mexique  Bay.  Men 
look  up  and  wonder  at  its  tall  height ;  but  it  must 
take  the  rude  blasts  of  every  winter  upon  its  naked, 
wranite  head ;  its  gides  are  furrowed  with  the  storm. 
It  is  of  unequalled  loftiness,  but  freezing  cold ; 
while  in  the  low  valleys  and  on  the  mountain's 
southern  slopes  the  snow  melts  quick  away,  early 
the  grass  comes  green,  the  flowers  lift  up  their 
modest,  lovely  face,  and  shed  their  fragrance  on 
the  sudden  spring.  Who  shall  tell  me  that  intel- 
lectual or  moral  grandeur  is  higher  in  the  scale  of 
powers  than  the  heart!  It  is  not  so.  Mind  and 
conscience  are  great  and  noble;  truth  and  justice 
are  exceeding  dear,  but  love  is  dearer  and  more 
precious  than  both. 

See  the  array  of  natural  means  provided  for  the 
development  and  education  of  the  heart.  Spiritual 
love,  joining  with  the  instinctive  passion  which  peo- 
ples the  world,  attracts  mankind  into  little  binary 
groups,  families  of  two.  Therein  we  are  all  born  of 
love.  Love  watches  over  our  birth.  Our  earliest 
knowledge  of  mankind  is  of  one  animated  by  the 
instinctive  power  of  affection,  developed  into  con- 
scious love.  The  first  human  feeling  extended 
towards  us  is  a  mothers  love.  Even  the  rude 
woman  in  savage  Patagonia  turns  her  sunniest 
aspect  to  her  child;  the  father  does  the  same.     In 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  123 

our  earliest  years  we  are  almost  wholly  in  the  hands 
of  women,  in  whom  the  heart  emphatically  prevails 
over  the  head.  They  attract  and  win,  while  man 
only  invades  and  conquers.  The  first  human  force 
we  meet  is  woman's  love.  All  this  tends  to  waken 
and  unfold  the  affections,  to  give  them  their  culture, 
and  hasten  their  growth.  The  other  children  of 
kindred  blood,  asking  or  giving  kind  offices ;  affec- 
tionate relations  and  friends,  who  turn  out  the  fairest 
side  of  nature  and  themselves  to  the  new-born 
stranger,  —  all  of  these  are  helps  in  the  education  of 
the  heart.  All  men  unconsciously  put  on  amiable 
faces  in  the  presence  of  children,  thinking  it  is  not 
good  to  cause  these  little  ones  to  offend.  As  the 
roughest  of  men  will  gather  flowers  for  little  children, 
so  in  their  presence  he  turns  out  "  the  silver  lining  " 
of  his  cloudy  character  to  the  young  immortals,  and 
would  not  have  them  know  the  darker  part.  The 
sourest  man  is  not  wholly  hopeless  when  he  will  not 
blaspheme  before  his  son. 

The  child's  affection  gets  developed  on  the  smallest 
scale  at  first.  The  mother's  love  tempts  forth  the 
son's ;  he  loves  the  bosom  that  feeds  him,  the  lips 
which  caress,  the  person  who  loves.  Soon  the  circle 
widens,  and  includes  brothers  and  sisters,  and  famil- 
iar friends ;  then  gradually  enlarges  more  and  more, 
the  affections  strengthening  as  their  empire  spreads. 
So  love    travels    from    person    to    person,   from   the 


124  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

mother  or  nurse  to  the  family  at  home ;  then  to  the 
relatives  and  frequent  guests;  next  to  the  children 
at  school,  to  the  neighborhood,  the  town,  the  State, 
the  nation ;  and  at  last  manly  love  takes  in  the 
whole  family  of  mankind,  counting  nothing  alien 
that  is  human. 

You  often  find  men  lamenting  the  lack  of  early 
education  of  the  intellect ;  it  is  a  grievous  deficiency ; 
and  it  takes  the  hardest  toil  in  after  years  to  supply 
the  void,  if  indeed  it  can  ever  be  done.  It  is  a  mis- 
fortune to  fail  of  finding  an  opportunity  for  the  cul- 
ture of  conscience  in  childhood,  and  to  acquire  bad 
habits  in  youth,  which  at  great  cost  you  must  revo- 
lutionize at  a  later  day.  But  it  is  a  yet  greater  loss 
to  miss  the  opportunity  of  affectional  growth ;  a  sad 
thing  to  be  born,  and  yet  not  into  a  happy  home,  — 
to  lack  the  caresses,  the  fondness,  the  self-denying 
love,  which  the  child's  nature  needs  so  much  to  take, 
and  the  mother's  needs  so  much  to  give.  The 
cheeks  which  affection  does  not  pinch,  which  no 
mother  kisses,  have  always  a  sad  look,  that  nothing 
can  conceal,  and  in  childhood  get  a  scar  which  they 
will  carry  all  their  days.  What  sad  faces  one  always 
sees  in  the  asylums  for  orphans !  It  is  more  fatal  to 
neglect  the  heart  than  the  head. 

In  a  world  like  this,  not  much  advanced  as  yet  in 
any  high  qualities  of  spirit,  but  still  advancing,  it  is 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  125 

beautiful  to  see  the  examples  of  love  which  we 
sometimes  meet,  the  exceptional  cases  that  to  me 
are  prophecies  of  that  good  time  which  is  so  long  in 
coming.  I  will  not  speak  of  the  love  of  husband 
and  wife,  or  of  parent  and  child,  for  each  of  these  is 
mainly  controlled  by  a  strong  generic  instinct,  which 
deprives  the  feeling  of  its  personal  and  voluntary 
character.  I  will  speak  of  spontaneous  love  not 
connected  with  the  connubial  or  parental  instincts. 
You  see  it  in  the  form  of  friendship,  charity,  pat- 
riotism, and  philanthropy,  where  there  is  no  tie  of 
kindred  blood,  no  impulsion  of  instincts  to  excite, 
but  only  a  kindred  heart  and  an  attractive  soul. 
Men  tell  us  that  the  friendship  of  the  ancients  has 
passed  away.  But  it  is  not  so ;  Damon  and  Pythias 
are  perpetually  reproduced  in  every  walk  of  life, 
save  that  where  luxury  unnerves  the  man,  or  avarice 
coins  him  into  a  copper  cent,  or  ambition  degrades 
him  to  lust  of  fame  and  power.  Every  village  has 
its  tale  of  this  character.  The  rude  life  of  the  bor- 
derers on  the  frontiers  of  civilization,  the  experience 
of  men  in  navigation,  in  all  the  difficult  emer- 
gencies of  life,  bring  out  this  heroic  affection  of  the 
heart. 

What  examples  do  we  all  know  of  friendship  and 
of  charity!  Here  is  a  woman  of  large  intellect, 
well  disciplined,  well  stored,  gifted  with  mind  and 

11* 


1*26  LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS. 

graced  with  its  specific  piety,  whose  chief  delight  it 
is  to  do  kind  deeds  to  those  beloved.  Her  life  is 
poured  out,  like  the  fair  light  of  heaven,  around  the 
bedside  of  the  sick.  She  comes  like  a  last  sacra- 
ment to  the  dying  man,  bringing  back  a  reminiscence 
of  the  best  things  of  mortal  life,  and  giving  a  fore- 
tasted prophecy  of  the  joys  of  heaven,  her  very 
presence  an  alabaster  box  of  ointment,  exceeding 
precious,  filling  the  house  with  the  balm  of  its  thou- 
sand flowers.  Her  love  adorns  the  paths  wherein 
she  teaches  youthful  feet  to  tread,  and  blooms  in 
amaranthine  loveliness  above  the  head  laid  low  in 
earth.  She  would  feel  insulted  by  gratitude ;  God 
can  give  no  greater  joy  to  mortal  men  than  the  con- 
sciousness whence  such  a  life  wells  out.  Not  con- 
tent with  blessing  the  few  whom  friendship  joins  to 
her,  her  love  enlarges  and  runs  over  the  side  of  the 
private  cup,  and  fills  the  bowl  of  many  a  needy  and 
forsaken  one.  Self-denial  is  spontaneous,  —  self-in- 
dulgence of  the  noble  heart  to  her.  In  the  presence 
of  such  affection  as  this,  the  intellect  of  a  Plato 
would  be  abashed,  and  the  moral  sense  of  a  saint 
would  shrink  and  say  to  itself:  "Stand  back,  my 
soul,  for  here  is  somewhat  far  holier  than  thou!" 
In  sight  of  such  excellence  I  am  ashamed  of  intel- 
lect ;  I  would  not  look  upon  the  greatest  mind  that 
ever  spoke  to  ages  yet  unborn. 

There  is  far  more  of  this  charity  than  most  men 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  127 

imagine.  You  find  it  amid  the  intense  worldliness 
of  this  city,  where  upstart  Mammon  scoffs  at  God  ; 
in  the  hovels  of  the  poor,  in  the  common  dwellings 
of  ordinary  men,  and  in  the  houses  of  the  rich ; 
drive  out  nature  with  a  dollar,  still  she  comes 
back.  This  love  is  the  feminine  saviour  of  man- 
kind, and  bestows  a  peace  which  nothing  else  can 
give,  which  nought  can  take  away.  From  its  na- 
ture this  plant  grows  in  by-places,  where  it  is  not 
seen  by  ordinary  eyes,  till  wounded  you  flee  thither ; 
then  it  heals  your  smart,  or  when  beheld  fills  you 
with  wonder  at  its  human  loveliness. 

The  calling  of  a  clergyman  in  a  great,  wicked 
town  brings  him  acquainted  with  ghastly  forms  of 
human  wickedness,  —  with  felons  of  conscience,  and 
men  idiotic  in  their  affections,  who  seem  born  with 
an  arithmetic  instead  of  a  conscience,  and  a  vulture 
for  a  heart:  but  we  also  find  those  angels  of  affec- 
tion  in  whom  the  dearest  attribute  of  God  becomes 
incarnate,  and  his  love  made  flesh ;  else  an  earnest 
minister  might  wear  a  face  grim,  stony,  battered  all 
over  by  the  sad  sight  of  private  suffering,  and  the 
sadder  sight  of  conscious  and  triumphant  wicked- 
ness trampling  the  needy  down  to  dust,  and  treating 
the  Almighty  with  sneer  and  scoff. 

Books  tell  us  of  but  few  examples  of  patriotism  : 
they  are  common.     Let  us  see  examples  in  its  vul- 


128  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

garest,  and  so  most  honored  form,  —  love  of  country, 
to  the  exclusion  and  hate  of  other  lands.  Men  tell 
of  Regulus,  how  he  laid  down  his  life  for  his  country, 
the  brave  old  heathen  that  he  was.  But  in  the 
wickedest  of  modern  wars,  when  America  plun- 
dered Mexico  of  soil  and  men,  many  a  deluded 
volunteer  laid  down  his  life,  I  doubt  not,  with  a 
heroism  as  pure,  and  a  patriotism  as  strong,  as  that 
of  Regulus  or  Washington.  Detesting  the  unholy 
war,  let  us  honor  the  virtue  which  it  brought  to 
light. 

This  virtue  of  patriotism  is  common  with  the 
mass  of  men  in  this  republic.  In  aristocratic  gov- 
ernments the  rich  men  and  nobles  have  it  in  a 
large  degree  ;  it  is,  however,  somewhat  selfish,  —  a 
love  of  their  private  privileges  more  than  of  the 
general  rights  of  their  countrymen.  With  us  in 
America,  especially  in  the  seat  of  riches  and  of 
trade,  there  seems  little  patriotism  in  the  wealthy, 
or  more  educated  class  of  men ;  small  fondness  for 
the  commonwealth  in  that  quarter.  Exclusive  love 
of  gain  drives  that  out  of  their  heart.  To  the  dollar, 
all  lands,  all  governments,  are  the  same. 

But  apart  from  patriotism,  charity,  friendship,  I 
have  seen  most  noble  examples  of  the  same  affec- 
tion on  a  yet  wider  scale,  —  I  mean  philanthropy, 
the  love  of  all  mankind.     You  all  know  men,  whose 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  129 

affection,  at   first   beginning   at   home,    and  loving 
only  the  mother  who  gave  her  baby  nature's  bread, 
has  now  transcended  family  and  kin,  gone  beyond 
all  private  friendships  with  like-minded  men,  over- 
leaped the  far  barriers  of  our  native  land,  and  now, 
loving  family,  friend,  and  country,  loves  likewise  all 
humankind.     This    is  the  largest  expanse  of  affec- 
tion ;  the  man's  heart,  once  filled  with  love  for  one, 
for  a  few,  for  men  in  need  beneath  his  eye,  for  his 
countrymen,  has  now  grown  bountiful  to  all.     To 
love     the    lovely,    to     sympathize    with    the    like- 
minded, —  everybody    can    do    that;  —  all    save    an 
ill-born   few,    whom   we   may  pity,   but   must   not 
blame,  for   their   congenital    deformity    and   dwarf- 
ishness;  —  but  to  love  the  unlovely,  to  sympathize 
with  the  contrary-minded,  to  give  to  the  uncharita- 
ble, to  forgive  such  as  never  pity,  to  be  just  to  men 
who    make    iniquity  a   law,    to    pay  their    sleepless 
hate  with  never-ceasing  love,  —  that  is  the  triumph 
of  the   affections,    the   heroic   degree    of  love ;    you 
must  be  but  little  lower  than  the  angels  to  do  that. 
It  is  one  of  the  noblest  attainments  of  man,  and 
in   this   he   becomes  most  like  God.     The  intellect 
acquaints  you  with  truth,  the  thought  of  God ;  con- 
science informs  you  with  his  justice,  the  moral  will 
of  God  ;  and  the  heart  fitly  exercised  gives  you  a 
fellowship  with  his  eternal  love,  the   most  intimate 
feeling  of  the  Infinite  Father ;  having  that,  you  can 


130  LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS. 

love  men  spite  of  the  imperfections  of  their  con- 
duct and  character,  —  can  love  the  idiot,  the  crimi- 
nal, hated  or  popular,  —  be  towardly  to  the  fro- 
ward,  kind  to  the  unmerciful,  and  on  them  bestow 
the  rain  and  the  sunshine  of  your  benevolence,  your 
bounty  limited  only  by  your  power,  not  your  will, 
to  bless,  asking  no  gratitude,  expecting  no  return. 

I  do  not  look  for  this  large  philanthropy  in  all 
men  here,  only  in  a  few.  All  have  a  talent  for  lov- 
ing, though  this  is  as  variously  distributed  as  any 
intellectual  gift;  few  have  a  genius  for  benevolence. 
The  sublime  of  patriotism,  the  holy  charity,  and 
the  delicate  friendship,  are  more  common.  The 
narrower  love  between  husband  and  wife,  child  and 
parent,  has  instinct  to  aid  it,  and  is  so  common, 
that,  like  daily  bread  and  nightly  sleep,  we  forget 
to  be  thankful  for  it,  not  heeding  how  much  de- 
pends thereon. 

The  joys  of  affection  are  the  commonest  of  joys ; 
sometimes  the  sole  poetic  ornament  in  the  hutch  of 
the  poor,  they  are  also  the  best  things  in  the  rich 
man's  palace.  They  are  the  Shekinah,  the  presence 
of  God  in  the  dwellings  of  men.  It  is  through  the 
affections  that  most  men  learn  religion.  I  know 
they  often  say,  "  Fear  first  taught  us  God."  No ! 
Fear  first  taught  us  a  devil,  —  often  worshipped  as 
the  God,  —  and  with  that  fear  all  devils  fade  away, 
they  and    their    misanthropic    hell.     Ghosts    cannot 


LOVE   AND    THE    AFFECTIONS.  131 

stand  the  light,  nor  devils  love.  My  affections  bind 
me  to  God,  and  as  the  heart  grows  strong  my  ever- 
deepening  consciousness  of  God  grows  more  and 
more,  till  God's  love  occupies  the  heart,  and  the  sen- 
timent of  God  is  mine. 


Notwithstanding  the  high  place  which  the  affec- 
tions hold  in  the  natural  economy  of  man,  and  the 
abundant  opportunities  for  their  culture  and  develop- 
ment furnished  by  the  very  constitution  of  the  family, 
but  little  value  is  placed  thereon  in  what  is  called 
the  "  superior  education  "  of  mankind.  The  class  of 
men  that  lead  the  Christian  world  have  but  a  small 
development  of  affection.  Patriotism  is  the  only 
form  of  voluntary  love  which  it  is  popular  with  such 
men  to  praise,  —  that  only  for  its  pecuniary  value ; 
charity  seems  thought  a  weakness,  to  be  praised 
only  on  Sundays ;  avarice  is  the  better  weekday 
virtue ;  friendship  is  deemed  too  romantic  for  a  trad- 
ing town.  Philanthropy  is  mocked  at  by  statesmen 
and  leading  capitalists ;  it  is  the  standing  butt  of  the 
editor,  whereat  he  shoots  his  shaft,  making  up  in  its 
barb  and  venom  for  his  arrows'  lack  of  length  and 
point.  Metropolitan  clergymen  rejoice  in  calum- 
niating philanthropy ;  "  Even  the  golden  rule  hath 
its  exceptions,"  says  one  of  them  just  now.  It  is 
deemed  important  to  show  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth 


132  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

was  "  no  philanthropist,"  and  cared  nothing  for  the 
sin  of  the  powerful,  which  trod  men  into  a  mire  of 
blood !  In  what  is  called  the  "  highest  education," 
only  the  understanding  and  the  taste  get  a  consider- 
able culture.  The  piety  of  the  heart  is  thought 
"  inelegant "  in  society,  unscholarly  with  the  learned, 
and  a  dreadful  heresy  in  the  churches.  In  literature 
it  is  not  love  that  wins  the  palm ;  it  is  power  to  rule 
by  force,  —  force  of  muscles  or  force  of  mind :  "  None 
but  the  brave  deserve  the  fair."  In  popular  speech 
it  is  the  great  fighters  that  men  glorify,  not  the  great 
lovers  of  mankind.  Interest  eats  out  the  heart  from 
commerce  and  politics ;  controlling  men  have  no 
faith  in  disinterested  benevolence ;  to  them  the  nation 
is  a  monstrous  shop,  a  trading  city  but  a  bar-room 
in  a  commercial  tavern,  the  church  a  desk  for  the 
accountant,  the  world  a  market ;  men  are  buyers  and 
sellers,  employers  and  employed.  Governments  are 
mainly  without  love,  often  without  justice.  This 
seems  their  function:  To  protect  capital  and  tax 
toil. 

Hitherto  justice  has  not  been  done  to  the  affections 
in  Religion.  We  have  been  taught  to  fear  God,  not 
to  love  Him,  to  see  Him  in  the  earthquake  and  the 
storm,  in  the  deluge,  or  the  "  ten  plagues  of  Egypt," 
in  the  "  black  death,"  or  the  cholera ;  not  to  see  God 
in  the  morning  sun,  or  in  the  evening  full  of  radiant 


LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS.  133 

gentleness.  Love  has  little  to  do  with  the  popular 
religion  of  our  time.  God  is  painted  as  a  dreadful 
Eye,  which  bores  through  the  darkness  to  spy  out 
the  faults  of  men  who  must  sneak  and  skulk  about 
the  world;  or  as  a  naked,  bony  Arm,  uplifted  to 
crush  his  children  down  with  horrid  squelch  to  end- 
less hell.  The  long  line  of  scoffers  from  Lucian, 
their  great  hierophant,  down  to  Voltaire  and  his 
living  coadjutors,  have  not  shamed  the  priesthood 
from  such  revolting  images  of  deity.  Sterner  men, 
who  saw  the  loveliness  of  the  dear  God  and  set  it 
forth  in  holy  speech  and  holy  life,  —  to  meet  a  fate 
on  earth  far  harder  than  the  scoffer's  doom,  —  they 
cannot  yet  teach  men  that  love  of  God  casts  every 
fear  away.  In  the  Catholic  mythology  the  Virgin 
Mary,  its  most  original  creation,  represents  pure 
love,  —  she,  and  she  alone.  Hence  is  she,  (and  de- 
servedly,) the  popular  object  of  worship  in  all  Cath- 
olic countries.  But  the  sterner  Protestant  sects 
have  the  Roman  Godhead  after  Mary  is  taken 
away. 

When  this  is  so  in  religion,  do  you  wonder  at  the 
lack  of  love  in  law  and  custom,  in  politics  and  trade? 
Shall  I  write  satires  on  mankind?  Rather  let  me 
make  its  apology.  Man  is  a  baby  yet ;  the  time  for 
the  development  of  conscious  love  has  not  arrived. 
Let  us  not  say,  "  No  man  eat  fruit  of  thee  hereafter;" 

12 


134  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

let  us  wait ;  dig  about  the  human  tree  and  encour- 
age it ;  in  time  it  shall  put  forth  figs. 

Still  affection  holds  this  high  place  in  the  nature 
of  man.     Out  of  our  innermost  hearts  there  comes 
the  prophecy  of  a  time  when  it  shall  have  a  kindred 
place    in   history  and   the   affairs  of  men.     In   the 
progress  of  mankind,  love  takes  continually  a  higher 
place ;   what  was   adequate   and  well-proportioned 
affection  a  century  ago,  is  not  so  now.     Long  since, 
prophets   rose   up  to  declare  the  time  was  coming 
when  all  hate  should  cease,  there  should  be  war  no 
more,  and   the    sword   should   be   beaten   into   the 
ploughshare.     Were  they  dreamers  of  idle  dreams? 
It  was  human  nature  which  spoke  through  them  its 
lofty  prophecy  ;  and  mankind  fulfils  the  highest  pre- 
diction of  every  noble  man.     The  fighter  is  only  the 
hod-carrier  of  the  philanthropist.     Soldiers  build  the 
scaffolding ;  with  the  voice  of  the  trumpet,  with  the 
thunder  of  the  captain,  and  mahifold  shouting,  are 
the  stones  drawn  to  the  spot,  the  cement  of  human 
architecture  has  been  mixed  with  human  blood,  but 
it  is  a  temple  of  peace  which  gets  builded  at  the 
last. 

In  every  man  who  lives  a  true  life  the  affections 
grow  continually.  He  began  with  his  mother  and 
his  nurse,  and  journeyed  ever  on,  pitching  his  tent 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  135 

each  night  a  day's  march  nearer  God.  His  own 
children  helped  him  love  others  yet  more ;  his  chil- 
dren's children  carried  the  old  man's  heart  quite  out 
beyond  the  bounds  of  kin  and  country,  and  taught 
him  to  love  mankind.  He  grows  old  in  learning  to 
love,  and  now,  when  age  sets  the  silver  diadem  upon 
his  brow,  not  only  is  his  love  of  truth  and  justice 
greater  than  before,  —  not  only  does  he  love  his  wife 
better  than  in  his  hour  of  prime,  when  manly  instinct 
added  passion  to  his  heart,  —  not  only  does  he  love 
his  children  more  than  in  their  infancy,  when  the 
fatherly  instinct  first  began  its  work,  —  not  only  has 
he  more  spontaneous  love  for  his  grandchildren  than 
he  felt  for  his  first  new-born  babe,  —  but  his  mature 
affection  travels  beyond  his  wife,  and  child,  and 
children's  child,  to  the  whole  family  of  men,  mourns 
in  their  grief,  and  joys  in  their  delight.  All  his 
powers  have  been  greatened  in  his  long,  industrious, 
and  normal  life,  and  so  his  power  of  love  has 
continually  enlarged.  The  human  objects  do  not 
wholly  satisfy  his  heart's  desire.  The  ideal  of  love 
is  nowhere  actual  in  the  world  of  men,  no  finite  per- 
son fills  up  the  hungry  heart,  so  he  turns  to  the 
Infinite  Object  of  affection,  to  the  great  Mother  of 
mankind ;  and  in  the  sentiment  of  love  he  and  his 
God  are  one.  God's  thought  in  his  mind,  God's 
justice  in  his  conscience,  God's  love  in  his  heart,  — 
why  should  not  he  be  blessed  ? 


136  LOVE   AND    THE   AFFECTIONS. 

In  mankind,  as  in  a  faithful  man,  there  has  been 
the  same  enhancement  of  the  power  to  love.  Al- 
ready Affection  begins  to  legislate,  even  to  adminis- 
ter the  laws  of  love.  Long  ago  you  see  intimation 
of  this  in  the  institutes  of  Moses  and  Menu.  "  The 
qualitative  precedes  the  quantitative,"  as  twilight 
precedes  day.  Slowly  vengeance  fades  out  of 
human  institutions,  slowly  love  steals  in  :  —  the 
wounded  soldier  must  be  healed,  and  paid,  his 
widow  fed,  and  children  comforted;  the  slaves  must 
be  set  free ;  the  yoke  of  kings  and  nobles  must  be 
made  lighter,  be  broken,  and  thrown  away ;  all  men 
must  have  their  rights  made  sure  ;  the  poor  must  be 
fed,  must  have  his  human  right  to  a  vote,  to  justice, 
truth,  and  love ;  the  ignorant  must  be  educated,  the 
State  looking  to  it  that  no  one  straggles  in  the  rear 
and  so  is  lost;  the  criminals  —  I  mean  the  little 
criminals  committing  petty  crimes  —  must  be  in- 
structed, healed,  and  manlified ;  the  lunatic  must  be 
restored  to  his  intellect;  the  blind,  the  deaf  and 
dumb,  the  idiots,  must  be  taught,  and  all  mankind 
be  blessed.  The  attempt  to  banish  war  out  of  the 
world,  odium  from  theology,  capital  punishment  out 
of  the  State,  the  Devil  and  his  hell  from  the  Chris- 
tian mythology,  —  the  effort  to  expunge  hate  from 
the  popular  notion  of  God,  and  fear  from  our 
religious  consciousness,  —  all  this  shows  the  growth 
of  love  in  the  spirit  of  men.     A  few  men  see  that 


LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS.  137 

while  ir-religion  is  fear  of  a  devil,  religion  is  love : 
one  half  is  piety,  —  the  love  of  God  as  truth,  justice, 
love,  as  Infinite  Deity ;  the  rest  is  morality,  —  self- 
love,  and  the  love  of  man,  a  service  of  God  by  the 
normal  use,  development,  and  enjoyment  of  every 
limb  of  the  body,  every  faculty  of  the  spirit,  every 
particle  of  power  we  possess  over  matter  or  over 
man.  A  few  men  see  that  God  is  love,  and  makes 
the  world  of  love  as  substance,  from  love  as  motive, 
and  for  love  as  end. 

Human  nature  demands  the  triumph  of  pure,  dis- 
interested love  at  last ;  the  nature  of  God  is  warrant 
that  what  is  promised  in  man's  nature  shall  be  ful- 
filled in  his  development.  Human  nature  is  human 
destiny ;  God's  nature,  universal  Providence.  The 
mind  tells  us  of  truth  which  will  prevail ;  conscience, 
of  justice  sure  to  conquer ;  the  heart  gives  us  the 
prophecy  of  infinite  love  certain  to  triumph.  One 
day  there  shall  be  no  fear  before  men,  no  fear  before 
God,  no  tyrant  in  society,  no  Devil  in  theology,  no 
hell  in  the  mythology  of  men ;  love  and  the  God  of 
love  shall  take  their  place.  Hitherto  Jesus  is  an  ex- 
ceptional man,  the  man  of  love ;  Caesars  and  Alex- 
anders are  instantial  men,  men  of  force  and  fig-lit. 
One  day  this  will  be  inverted,  these  conquerors  swept 
off  and  banished,  the  philanthropists  become  com- 
mon, the  kingdom  of  hate  forgot  in  the  common- 
wealth of  love.     Here  is  work  for  you  and  me  to  do ; 

12* 


138  LOVE   AND   THE   AFFECTIONS. 

for  our  affectional  piety,  assuming  its  domestic, 
social,  national,  universal  form,  will  bless  us  with  its 
delight,  and  then  go  forth  to  bless  mankind  ;  and 
long  after  you  and  I  shall  have  gone  home  to  the 
God  we  trust,  our  affectional  piety  shall  be  a  senti- 
ment living  in  the  hearts  of  men ;  —  yes,  a  power  in 
the  world  to  bless  mankind  for  ever  and  ever. 

"  Serene  will  be  our  days  and  bright, 
And  happy  will  our  nature  be, 
When  love  is  an  unerring  light, 
And  joy  its  own  security. 
And  they  a  blissful  course  may  hold 
Even  now,  who,  not  unwisely  bold, 
Live  in  the  spirit  of  this  creed, 
Yet  find  that  other  strength,  according  to  their  need." 


V. 


OF  CONSCIOUS  RELIGION  AND  THE  SOUL. 


Worship  the  lord  in  the  beauty  of  holiness.  —  Ps.  xxix.  2. 

The  mind  converses  with  things  indirectly,  by- 
means  of  the  senses  ;  with  ideas  directly,  indepen- 
dent of  the  senses,  by  spiritual  intuition,  whereto 
the  senses  furnish  only  the  occasion,  not  the  power, 
of  knowledge ;  so  the  mind  arrives  at  truth,  in 
various  forms  or  modes,  rests  contented  therein, 
and  has  joy  in  the  love  thereof.  Conscience  is 
busied  with  rules  of  right,  by  direct  intuition 
learns  the  moral  law  of  the  universe  as  it  is  writ 
in  human  nature,  —  outward  experience  furnishing 
only  the  occasion,  not  the  power,  of  knowing 
right, —  arrives  at  justice,  rests  contented  therein, 
and  has  its  joy  in  the  love  thereof.  The  affec- 
tions deal  with  persons,  whom  it  is  their  function 
to  love,  travel  ever  on  to  wider  and  wider  spheres, 
joying  in   the   men   they  love,  but  always    seeking 


140  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL. 

the  perfect  object  with  which  they  may  be  con- 
tented and  have  the  absolute  joy  of  the  heart. 
To  think  truth,  to  will  justice,  to  feel  love,  is  the 
highest  act  respectively  of  the  intellectual,  moral, 
and  affectional  powers  of  man,  which  seek  the 
absolutely  true,  just,  and  lovely,  as  the  object  of 
their  natural  desire. 

The  soul  has  its  own  functions.  God  is  the 
object  thereof.  As  the  mind  and  conscience  by 
their  normal  activity  bring  truth  and  justice  to 
human  consciousness,  so  the  soul  makes  us  con- 
scious of  God. 

We  see  what  intellectual,  moral,  and  affectional 
creations  have  come  from  the  action  of  the  mind, 
the  conscience,  and  the  heart  of  man ;  we  see  the 
human  use  thereof  and  joy  therein.  But  the  re- 
ligious faculty  has  been  as  creative  and  yet  more 
powerful,  overmastering  all  the  other  powers  of 
man.  The  profoundest  study  of  man's  affairs,  or 
the  hastiest  glance  thereat,  shows  the  power  of  the 
soul  for  good  and  ill.  The  phenomena  of  man's 
religious  history  are  as  varied  and  important  as 
they  are  striking.  The  surface  of  the  world  is 
dotted  all  over  with  the  temples  which  man  has 
built  in  his  acts  of  reverence ;  religious  sentiments 
and  ideas  are  deeply  ploughed  into  the  history  of 
every  tribe  that  has  occupied  time  or  peopled 
space.     Consider   mankind   as    one   man,  immortal 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL.  141 

and  not  growing  old,  universal  history  as  his  biog- 
raphy ;  study  the  formation  of  his  religious  con- 
sciousness, the  gradual  growth  of  piety  in  all  its 
forms,  normal  or  monstrous ;  note  his  stumblings 
in  the  right  way,  his  wanderings  in  the  wrong,  his 
penitence,  his  alarm  and  anxiety,  his  remorse  for 
sin,  his  successive  attainments  of  new  truth,  new 
justice,  and  new  love,  the  forms  in  which  he 
expresses  his  inward  experience,  —  and  what  a 
strange,  attractive  spectacle  this  panorama  of  man's 
religious    history    presents    to    the    thoughtful  man. 

The  religious  action  of  a  child  begins  early ; 
but  like  all  early  activity  it  is  unconscious.  We  ' 
cannot  remember  that;  we  can  only  recollect  what 
we  have  known  in  the  form  of  consciousness,  or, 
at  best,  can  only  dimly  remember  what  lay  dimly 
and  half  conscious  in  us,  though  the  effects  thereof 
may  be  as  lasting  as  our  mortal  life.  You  see  the 
tendency  to  the  superhuman  in  quite  little  chil- 
dren asking,  "  But  who  made  God  ? "  the  child's 
causality  heedlessly  leaping  at  the  Infinite,  he 
having  a  dim  sentiment  of  the  Maker  of  all  itself 
unmade.  You  have  seen  little  babies,  early  de- 
prived of  their  mother,  involuntarily  and  by  instinct 
feeling  with  their  ill-shapen  mouths  after  what 
nature  provided  for  their  nourishment.  So  in  our 
childhood  as  involuntarily  and  instinctively  do  we 


142  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

feel  with  our  soul  after  the  Infinite  God,  often, 
alas !  to  be  beguiled  by  our  nurses  with  some  sop 
of  a  deity  which  fills  our  mouth  for  the  time  and 
keeps  us  from  perishing.  Perhaps  a  few  of  you 
remember  a  time  when  you  had  a  sentiment  —  it 
was  more  a  feeling  than  a  thought  —  of  a  vague, 
dim,  mysterious  somewhat,  which  lay  at  the  bot- 
tom of  all  things,  was  above  all,  about  all,  and  in 
all,  which  you  could  not  comprehend  nor  yet 
escape  from.  You  seemed  a  part  of  it,  or  it  of 
you ;  you  wondered  that  you  could  not  see  with 
your  eyes,  nor  hear  with  your  ears,  nor  touch  with 
your  hands,  what  you  yet  felt  and  longed  after 
with  such  perplexity  of  indistinctness.  Some- 
times you  loved  it ;  sometimes  you  feared.  You 
dared  not  name  it,  or  if  you  did,  no  one  word  was 
name  enough  for  so  changeable  a  thing.  Now 
you  felt  it  in  the  sunshine,  then  in  the  storm ;  now 
it  gave  life,  then  it  took  life  away.  Yon  con- 
nected it  with  all  that  was  strange  and  uncom- 
mon ;  now  it  was  a  great  loveliness,  then  an  ugli- 
ness of  indefinite  deformity.  In  a  new  place  you 
missed  it  at  first ;  but  it  soon  came  back,  travelling 
with  the  child,  a  constant  companion  at  length. 

All  men  do  not  remember  this,  I  think  ;  only  a 
few,  in  whom  religious  consciousness  began  early. 
But  we  have  all  of  us  been  through  this  nebulous 
period    of    religious    history,    when    the    soul    had 


CONSCIOUS    RELIGION    AND    THE    SOUL.  143 

emotions   for   which    the    mind    could    not    frame 
adequate  ideas. 

You  see  the  same  phenomena  drawn  on  a 
large  scale  in  the  history  of  ancient  nations, 
whose  monuments  still  attest  these  facts  of  con- 
sciousness ;  you  find  nations  at  this  day  still  in 
this  nebulous  period  of  religion,  the  Divine  not  yet 
resolved  to  Deity.  Sphinxes  and  pyramids  are 
fossil  remains  of  old  facts  of  consciousness  which 
you  and  I  and  every  man  have  reproduced.  Sav- 
ages are  baby  nations,  feeling  after  God,  and  trying 
to  express  with  their  reflective  intellect  the  imme- 
diate emotions  of  the  soul.  When  language  is  a 
clumsy  instrument,  men  try  to  carve  in  stone  what 
they  fail  to  express  in  speech.  Is  the  soul  directly 
conscious  of  a  superhuman  power  ?  they  seek  to 
legitimate  the  feeling  in  the  mind,  and  so  translate 
it  to  a  thought ;  at  least  they  legitimate  it  to  the 
senses,  and  make  it  a  thing.  This  vague,  myste- 
rious, superhuman  something,  before  it  is  solidified 
into  deity,  let  me  call  The  Divine.  Man  does  not 
know  what  it  is.  "  It  is  not  myself,"  says  he. 
"  What  is  it,  then  ?  Some  outward  thing  ?  "  He 
takes  the  outward  thing  which  seems  most  won- 
drous to  himself,  —  a  reptile,  beast,  bird,  insect ;  an 
element,  the  wind,  the  lightning,  the  sun,  the  moon, 
a  planet,  or  a  star.  Outward  things  embody  his 
inward  feeling ;   but  while  there  are  so  many  ele- 


144  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

ments  of  confusion  within  him,  no  one  embodiment 
is  enough ;  he  must  have  many,  each  one  a  step 
beyond  the  other.  His  feeling  becomes  profounder, 
his  thought  more  clear.  At  length  he  finds  that 
man  is  more  mighty  than  the  elements,  and  seeks 
to  consolidate  the  Divine  in  man,  and  has  personifi- 
cations thereof,  instead  of  his  primitive  embodi- 
ments in  Nature.  Then  his  feeling  of  the  Divine 
becomes  an  idea  of  Deity;  he  has  his  personal 
gods,  with  all  the  accidents  of  human  personality, — 
the  passions,  feelings,  thoughts,  mistakes,  and  all 
the  frailties  of  mortal  men. 

Age  after  age  this  work  goes  on ;  the  human 
idea  of  God  has  its  metempsychosis,  and  transmi- 
grates through  many  a  form,  rising  higher  at  every 
step  until  this  day.  In  studying  mathematics  man 
has  used  for  counters  the  material  things  of  earth, 
has  calculated  by  the  help  of  pebbles  from  the 
beach,  learned  the  decimal  system  from  his  ten 
fingers,  and  wonders  of  abstract  science  from  the 
complicated  diagrams  of  the  sky.  So  he  has  used 
reptiles,  beasts,  and  all  the  elements  and  orbs  of 
nature,  in  studying  his  sentiment  of  God,  transfer- 
ing  each  excellence  of  Nature  to  the  Divine,  and 
then  each  excellence  of  man.  Nature  is  the  rosary 
of  man's  prayer.  The  successive  embodiments 
and  personifications  of  God  in  matter,  animals, 
or   men  were  in   religion  what   the  hypotheses   of 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL.  145 

Thales  and  Ptolemy,  Galileo  and  Kepler,  were  in 
science,  —  helps  to  attain  a  more  general  form  of 
truth.  Every  idol-fetish,  every  embodiment  of  a 
conception  of  God  in  matter,  every  personification 
thereof  in  man,  has  been  a  step  forward  in  relig- 
ious progress.  The  grossest  fetichism  is  only  the 
early  shoot  from  the  instinctive  seed,  one  day  to 
blossom  into  the  idea  of  the  Infinite  God.  The 
confusion  of  past  and  present  mythologies  is  not 
only  a  witness  to  the  confusion  in  the  religious 
consciousness  of  men,  but  the  outward  expression 
helps  men  to  understand  the  inward  fact,  and  so  to 
bring  truth  out  of  error. 

The  religious  history  of  mankind  could  not  have 
been  much  different  from  what  it  has  been ;  the 
margin  for  human  caprice  is  not  a  very  wide  one. 
All  mankind  had  the  same  process  to  pass  through. 
The  instinct  of  development  in  the  human  race  is 
immensely  strong,  even  irrepressible ;  checked  here, 
in  another  place  it  puts  out  a  limb.  The  life  of 
mankind  is  continual  growth.  There  is  a  special 
progress  of  the  intellectual,  moral,  affectional,  and 
religious  faculties ;  so  a  general  progress  of  man ; 
with  that,  a  progress  in  the  ideas  which  men  form 
of  God.  Each  step  seems  to  us  unavoidable  and 
not  to  be  dispensed  with.  Once  unconscious  rev- 
erence of  the  Divine  was  all  man  had  attained 
to  ;  next  he  reached  the  worship  of  the  Deity  in  the 

13 


146  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

form  of  material  or  animal  nature  then  personified  in 
man.  Let  us  not  libel  the  human  race :  we  are 
babies  before  we  are  men.  "  Live  and  learn "  ap- 
plies to  mankind,  as  to  Joseph  and  Jane. 

You  and  I  are  born  as  far  from  pure  religion  as 
the  first  men,  and  have  passed  over  the  same  ground 
which  the  human  race  has  painfully  trod,  only  man- 
kind has  been  before  us,  and  made  a  road  to  travel 
on ;  so  we  journey  more  swiftly ;  and  in  twenty  or 
thirty  years  an  ordinary  man  accomplishes  what  it 
took  the  human  race  five  or  six  hundred  generations 
to  achieve.  But  hitherto  the  majority  of  Christians 
have  not  attained  unity,  or  even  concord,  in  their 
conception  of  the  Deity.  There  is  a  God,  a  Christ, 
a  Holy  Ghost,  and  a  Devil,  with  angels  and  saints, 
demons  and  damned  ;  it  takes  all  these  to  represent 
the  popular  ecclesiastical  conception  of  the  Deity ; 
and  a  most  heterogeneous  mixture  of  contradictions 
and  impossibilities  do  they  make.  The  Devil  is  part 
of  the  popular  Godhead.  Here  and  there  is  a  man 
conscious  of  God  as  Infinite  ;  but  such  are  only 
exceptional  men,  and  accordingly  disowned  as  here- 
tics, condemned,  but  no  longer  burnt,  as  of  old  time. 


It  is  plain  that  the  religious  faculty  is  the  strong- 
est spiritual  power  in  the  constitution  of  man.  Ac- 
cordingly, what  is  called  religion  is  always  one  of 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION  AND    THE   SOUL.  147 

the  mightiest  forces  in  the  world  of  men.  It  over- 
rides the  body,  mutilates  every  instinct,  and  hews 
off  every  limb ;  it  masters  the  intellect,  the  con- 
science, and  the  affections.  Lightning  shows  us  the 
power  of  electricity,  shattering  that  it  may  reach  its 
end,  and  shattering  what  it  reaches ;  the  power  of 
the  religious  faculty  hitherto  has  been  chiefly  shown 
in  this  violent  exhibition.  A  crusade  is  only  a  long 
thunderstorm  of  the  religious  forces. 

In  the  greater  part  of  the  world,  men  who  speak  in 
the  name  of  God  are  looked  on  with  more  reverence 
than  any  other.  So  every  tyrant  seeks  to  get  the 
priesthood  on  his  side.  Hard  Napoleon  got  the 
Pope  to  assist  at  the  imperial  coronation ;  even  the 
cannons  must  yield  to  the  Cross.  All  modern  wick- 
edness must  be  banked  up  with  Christianity.  If  the 
State  of  the  Philistines  wishes  to  sow  some  emi- 
nently wicked  seed,  it  ploughs  with  the  heifer  of  the 
Church. 

A  nation  always  prepares  itself  for  its  great  works 
with  consecration  and  prayer;  both  the  English  and 
American  revolutions  are  examples  of  this.  The 
religious  sentiment  lies  exceeding  deep  in  the  heart 
of  mankind.  Even  to-day  the  nations  look  on  men 
who  die  for  their  country  as  a  sacrifice  offered  to 
God.  No  government  is  so  lasting  as  that  based  on 
religious  sentiments  and  ideas  ;  with  the  mass  of 
men  the  State  is  part  of  the  Church,  and  politics  a 


148  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE   SOUL. 

national  sacrament.  Nothing  so  holds  a  nation  to- 
gether as  unity  of  religious  conviction.  Men  love  to 
think  their  rulers  have  a  religious  sanction.  "  Kings 
rule  by  divine  right,"  says  the  monarchist;  "Civil 
government  is  of  God,"  quoth  the  Puritan.  The 
mass  of  men  love  to  spread  acts  of  religion  along 
their  daily  life,  having  the  morning  sacrament  for 
birth,  the  evening  sacrament  for  death,  and  the  noon- 
day sacrament  of  marriage  for  the  mature  beauty  of 
maid  and  man.  Thus  in  all  the  sects,  the  morning, 
the  evening,  and  the  noon  of  life  are  connected  with 
sentiments  and  ideas  of  religion.  In  New  England 
we  open  a  town-meeting,  a  banquet,  or  a  court  with 
prayer  to  God. 

You  see  the  strength  of  the  religious  instinct  in 
the  power  of  the  sacred  class,  which  has  existed  in 
all  nations,  while  passing  from  the  savage  state  to 
the  highest  civilization,  —  a  power  which  only  passes 
away  when  the  class  which  bears  the  name  ceases 
to  represent  the  religious  feeling  and  thought  of  the 
nation,  and  merely  keeps  the  traditions  and  ceremo- 
nies of  old  time.  So  long  as  the  priests  represent 
God  to  the  people,  they  are  the  strongest  class. 
What  are  the  armies  of  Saul,  if  Samuel  pleases  to 
anoint  a  shepherd-lad  for  king  ?  You  see  examples 
of  this  power  of  the  sacred  class  in  Egypt,  in  India, 
in  Judea,  in  Greece  and  Rome,  before  the  philoso- 
pher outgrew  the  priest.     You  see  it  in  Europe  dur- 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL.  149 

ing  the  Middle  Ages  ;  what  monuments  thereof  are 
left,  marking  all  the  land  from  Byzantium  to  Upsala 
with  convents,  basilicas,  minster,  cathedral,  dome, 
and  spire !  At  this  day  the  Mormons,  on  the  bor- 
ders of  American  civilization,  gather  together  the 
rudest  white  men  of  the  land,  and  revive  the  ancient 
priestly  power  of  darker  times,  a  hierarchic  despot- 
ism under  a  republic.  In  such  communities  the 
ablest  men  and  the  most  ambitious  form  a  sacred 
class  ;  the  Church  offers  the  fairest  field  for  activity. 
There  religion  is  obviously  the  most  powerful  form 
of  power.  Men  who  live  in  a  city  where  the  tavern 
is  taller,  costlier,  more  beautiful  and  permanent,  than 
the  temple,  and  the  tavern-keeper  thought  a  more 
important  man  than  the  minister  of  religion,  who  is 
only  a  temple-keeper  now,  can  hardly  understand 
the  period  when  such  works  as  the  Cathedral  at 
Milan  or  the  Duorao  at  Venice  got  built :  but  a 
Mormon  city  reveals  the  same  state  of  things ;  Nau- 
voo  and  Deseret  explain  Jerusalem  and  Carnak. 

The  religious  faculty  has  overmastered  all  others  ; 
the  mind  is  reckoned  "  profane "  in  comparison. 
Does  the  priest  tell  men  in  its  name  to  accept  what 
contradicts  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  and  all  hu- 
man experience,  millions  bow  down  before  the 
Grand  Lama  or  the  Pope.  It  is  the  faith  of  the 
Christian  world,  that  a  Galilean  woman  bore  the 
Almighty  God  in  her  bosom,  and  nursed  Him  at  her 

13* 


150  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

breast.  Augustine  and  Aquinas  stooped  their  proud 
intellects  and  accepted  the  absurdity.  The  priests 
have  told  the  people  that  three  persons  are  one  God, 
or  three  Gods  one  person,  —  that  the  world  was  cre- 
ated in  six  days ;  the  people  give  up  their  intellect 
and  try  to  believe  the  assertion,  Grotius  and  Leibnitz 
assenting  to  the  tale.  Every  thing  written  in  the 
Bible,  the  Koran,  the  Book  of  Mormon,  is  thus 
made  to  pass  current  with  their  respective  worship- 
pers. In  the  name  of  religion  men  sacrifice  reason. 
St.  James  says,  "  Is  any  sick  among  you  ?  let  him 
call  for  the  elders  of  the  Church ;  and  let  them  pray 
over  him,  anointing  him  with  oil  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord,  and  the  prayer  of  faith  shall  save  the  sick,  and 
the  Lord  shall  raise  him  up."  Thousands  of  men, 
in  the  name  of  religion,  believe  that  this  medical  ad- 
vice of  a  Hebrew  fisherman  was  given  by  the  infalli- 
ble inspiration  of  God  ;  and  it  is  clerically  thought 
wicked  and  blasphemous  to  speak  of  it  as  I  do  this 
day.  I  only  mention  these  facts  to  show  the  natural 
strength  of  the  religious  instinct,  working  in  a  per- 
verted and  unnatural  form,  and  against  the  natural 
action  of  the  mind. 

In  like  manner  religion  is  made  to  silence  the 
moral  faculties.  The  Hebrews  will  kill  the  Canaan- 
ites  by  thousands;  Catholic  Spaniards  will  build 
the  Inquisition  for  their  countrymen;  English  Prot- 
estants, under  the  bloody  Elizabeth,  will  dip  their 


CONSCIOUS   KELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL.'  151 

hands  in  their  Catholic  brothers'  blood ;  Puritan 
Boston  has  had  her  Autos  da  Fe,  hanging  Quakers 
for  "non-resistance"  and  the  "inner  light,"  or 
witches  for  a  "compact  with  the  Devil."  Do  we 
not  still  hang  murderers  throughout  all  Christen- 
dom as  an  act  of  worship  ?  This  is  not  done  as 
political  economy,  but  as  "  Divine  service ;  "  not  for 
the  conversion  of  man,  but  in  the  name  of  God,  — 
one  of  the  few  relics  of  human  sacrifice.  "  Reason 
is  carnal,"  says  one  priest, —  men  accept  a  palpable 
absurdity  as  a  "revealed  truth;"  "  Conscience  must 
not  be  trusted,"  says  another,  —  and  human  sacri- 
fice is  readily  assented  to.  Nothing  is  so  unjust, 
but  men,  meaning  to  be  pious,  will  accept  and  per- 
form it,  if  commanded  in  the  name  of  religion.  In 
such  cases  even  interest  is  a  feeble  ally  to  con- 
science, and  money  is  sometimes  sacrificed  in  New 
England. 

The  religious  instinct  is  thus  made  to  trample  on 
the  affections.  At  the  priest's  command,  men  re- 
nounce the  dearest  joys  of  the  heart,  degrading 
woman  to  a  mere  medium  of  posterity,  or  scoffing 
at  nature,  and  vowing  shameful  oaths  of  celibacy. 
Puritan  mothers  feared  lest  they  should  "love  their 
children  too  much."  How  many  a  man  has  made 
his  son  "  pass  through  the  fire  unto  Moloch  ?  "  The 
Protestant  thinks  it  was  an  act  of  religion  in  Abra- 
ham to  sacrifice  his  only  son  unto  Jehovah ;    the 


152  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL. 

Catholic  still  justifies  the  St.  Bartholomew  mas- 
sacre. Mankind  did  not  shrink  at  human  sacrifice 
which  was  demanded  in  the  name  of  religion  ter- 
ribly perverted.  These  facts  are  enough  to  show 
that  the  religious  faculty  is  the  strongest  in  human 
nature,  and  easily  snaps  all  ties  which  bind  us  to 
the  finite  world,  making  the  lover  forswear  his  bride, 
and  even  the  mother  forget  her  child. 


See  what  an  array  of  means  is  provided  for  the 
nurture  and  development  of  the  religious  instinct, — 
provided  by  God  in  the  constitution  of  men  and 
of  the  universe.  All  these  things  about  us,  things 
magnificently  great,  things  elegantly  little,  contin- 
ually impress  mankind.  Even  to  the  barbarian 
Nature  reveals  a  mighty  power  and  a  wondrous 
wisdom,  and  continually  points  to  God.  I  do  not 
wonder  that  men  worshipped  the  several  things  of 
the  world,  at  first  reverencing  the  Divine  in  the 
emmet  or  the  crocodile.  The  world  of  matter  is  a 
revelation  of  fear  to  the  savage  in  northern  climes : 
he  trembles  at  his  deity  throned  in  ice  and  snow. 
The  lightning,  the  storm,  the  earthquake,  startle  the 
rude  man,  and  he  sees  the  Divine  in  the  extraor- 
dinary. 

The  grand  objects  of  Nature  perpetually  con- 
strain men  to  think  of  their  Author.     The  Alps  are 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL.  153 

the  great  altar  of  Europe;  the  nocturnal  sky  has 
been  to  mankind  the  dome  of  a  temple,  starred  all 
over  with  admonitions  to  reverence,  trust,  and  love. 
The  Scriptures  for  the  human  race  are  writ  in  earth 
and  heaven.  Even  now  we  say,  "  An  undevout 
astronomer  is  mad."  What  a  religious  mosaic  is 
the  surface  of  the  earth,  —  green  with  vegetable 
beauty,  animated  with  such  swarms  of  life.  No 
organ  or  Pope's  Miserere  touches  my  heart  like  the 
sonorous  swell  of  the  sea,  and  the  ocean  wave's  im- 
measurable laugh.  To  me,  the  works  of  men  who 
report  the  aspects  of  Nature,  like  Humboldt,  and  of 
such  as  Newton  and  Laplace,  who  melt  away  the 
facts,  and  leave  only  the  laws,  the  forces  of  Nature, 
the  ideas  and  ghosts  of  things,  are  like  tales  of  a 
pilgrimage  to  the  Holy  Land,  or  poetical  biogra- 
phies of  a  saint ;  they  stir  religious  feelings,  and  I 
commune  with  the  Infinite. 

This  effect  is  not  produced  on  scholarly  men  so 
much  as  on  honest  and  laborious  mankind,  all  the 
world  over.  Nature  is  man's  religious  book,  with 
lessons  for  every  day.  In  cities  men  tread  on  an 
artificial  ground  of  brick  or  stone,  breathe  an  un- 
natural air,  see  the  heavens  only  a  handful  at  a 
time,  think  the  gas-lights  better  than  the  stars,  and 
know  little  how  the  stars  themselves  keep  the  police 
of  the  sky.  Ladies  and  gentlemen  in  towns  see 
Nature  only  at  second  hand.     It  is  hard  to  deduce 


154  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

God  from  a  brick  pavement.  Yet  ever  and  anon 
the  mould  comes  out  green  and  natural  on  the  walls, 
and  through  the  chinks  of  the  sidewalks  bursts  up 
the  life  of  the  world  in  many  a  little  plant,  which  to 
the  microscopic  eye  of  science  speaks  of  the  pres- 
ence of  the  same  Power  that  slowly  elaborates  a 
solar  system  and  a  universe.  In  the  country  men 
and  women  are  always  in  the  presence  of  Nature, 
and  feel  its  impulse  to  reverence  and  trust.  Every 
year  the  old  world  puts  on  new  bridal  beauty,  and 
celebrates  its  Whitsunday,  —  each  bush  putting  its 
glory  on.  Spring  is  our  Dominica  in  Albis.  Is  not 
autumn  a  long  All-Saints'  day?  The  harvest  is 
Hallowmass  to  mankind.  How  men  have  marked 
each  annual  crisis  of  the  year,  —  the  solstice  and  the 
equinox, —  and  celebrate  religious  festivals  thereon! 
The  material  world  is  the  element  of  communion 
between  man  and  God.  To  heedful  men  God 
preaches  on  every  mount,  utters  beatitudes  in  each 
little  flower  of  spring. 

Our  own  nature  also  reminds  us  of  God. 
Thoughtful  men  are  conscious  of  their  dependence, 
their  imperfection,  their  fmiteness,  and  naturally  turn 
to  the  Independent,  the  Perfect,  the  Infinite.  The 
events  of  life,  its  joys  and  its  sorrows,  have  a  natural 
tendency  to  direct  the  thoughts  to  the  good  Father 
of  us  -all.  Religious  emotions  spring  up  spontane- 
ously at  each  great  event  in  the  lives  of  earnest  men. 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL.  155 

When  I  am  sick  I  become  conscious  of  the  Infinite 
Mother  in  whose  lap  I  lay  my  weary  head.  The 
lover's  eyes  see  God  beyond  the  maid  he  loves  ; 
Heaven  speaks  out  of  the  helpless  face  which  the 
young  mother  presses  to  her  bosom  ;  each  new  child 
connects  its  parents  with  the  eternal  duration  of 
human  kind.  Who  can  wait  on  the  ebb  and  flow 
of  mortal  life  in  a  friend,  and  not  return  to  Him  who 
holds  that  ocean  also  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand  ! 
The  old  man  looking  for  the  last  time  upon  the.  sun 
turns  his  children's  face  towards  the  Sun  which 
never  sets.  Even  in  cities  men  do  not  pause  at  a 
funeral  or  look  on  a  grave  without  a  thought  of  the 
eternal  life  beyond  the  tomb,  and  the  dependence  of 
rich  and  poor  on  the  God  who  is  father  of  body  and 
soul.  The  hearse  obstructs  the  omnibus  of  com- 
merce, and  draws  the  eyes  of  even  the  silly  and  the 
vain  and  empty  creatures  who  buzz  out  their  ephem- 
eral phenomena  in  wealthy  towns,  the  butterflies  of 
this  garden  of  bricks,  and  forces  them  to  confront 
one  reality  of  life,  and  reverence,  though  only  with 
a  shudder,  the  Author  of  all.  The  undertaker  is  a 
priest  to  preach  terror,  if  no  more,  to  the  poor 
flies  of  metropolitan  frivolity,  reminding  them  at 
least  of  the  worm. 

The  outward  material  world  forms  a  temple  where 
all  invites  us  to  reverence  the  Soul  which  inspires 
it  with  life  ;  the  spiritual  powers  within  are  all  in- 


156  CONSCIOUS   KELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL. 

stinctively  astir  with  feelings  infinite.  Thus  mate- 
rial nature  joins  with  human  nature  in  natural  fel- 
lowship ;  outward  occasions  and  inward  means  of 
piety  are  bountifully  given,  and  man  is  led  to  de- 
velop his  religious  powers.  The  soul  of  man  cannot 
well  be  still ;  religion  has  always  had  a  powerful 
activity  in  the  world,  and  a  great  influence  upon  the 
destiny  of  mankind.  The  soul  has  been  as  active  as 
the  sense,  and  left  its  monuments.. 


An  element  thus  powerful,  thus  well  appointed 
with  outward  and  with  inward  helps,  must  have  a 
purpose  for  the  individual  and  the  race  commensu- 
rate with  its  natural  power.  The  affections  tell  me 
it  is  not  good  for  man  to  be  alone  in  the  body  with- 
out a  friend ;  the  soul  as  imperatively  informs  us 
that  we  cannot  well  be  alone  in  the  spirit  without  a 
consciousness  of  God.  If  the  religious  faculty  has 
overpowered  all  others,  and  often  trod  them  under- 
foot, its  very  power  shows  for  what  great  good  to 
mankind  it  was  invested  with  this  formidable  force. 
It  will  act  jointly  or  alone  ;  if  it  have  not  its  proper 
place  in  the  mass  of  men,  working  harmoniously 
with  the  intellect,  the  conscience,  and  the  affections, 
then  it  will  tyrannize  as  a  brute  instinct,  lusting 
after  God,  and,  like  a  river  that  bursts  its  bounds, 
sweep  off  the  holy  joys  of  men  before  its  desolating 
flood. 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL.  157 

The  mind  may  work  without  a  corresponding  ac- 
tion of  the  conscience  or  the  heart.  You  can  com- 
prehend the  worth  of  a  man  all  head,  with  no  sense 
of  right,  no  love  of  men,  with  nothing  but  a  demon- 
brain.  Conscience  may  act  with  no  corresponding 
life  of  the  affections  and  the  mind.  You  can  under- 
stand the  value  of  a  man  all  conscience  and  will,  — 
nothing  but  an  incarnate  moral  law,  the  "  categorical 
Imperative  "  exhibited  in  the  flesh,  with  no  wisdom 
and  no  love.  A  life  domineered  over  by  conscience 
is  unsatisfying,  melancholy,  and  grim.  The  affec- 
tions may  also  have  a  development  without  the 
moral  and  the  mental  powers.  But  what  is  a  man 
domineered  over  by  his  heart ;  with  no  justice,  no 
wisdom,  nothing  but  a  lump  of  good-nature,  partial 
and  silly?  It  is  only  the  rareness  of  such  phe- 
nomena that  makes  them  bearable.  Truth,  justice, 
love,  —  it  is  not  good  for  them  to  be  alone ;  each 
loses  two  thirds  of  the  human  power  when  it  expels 
the  sister  virtues  from  it.  What  God  has  joined 
must  not  be  put  asunder. 

The  religious  faculty  may  be  perverted,  severed 
from  the  rest  and  made  to  act  alone,  with  no  cor- 
responding action  of  the  mind,  the  conscience,  and 
the  heart.  Attempts  are  often  made  to  produce  this 
independent  development  of  the  soul.  It  is  no  new 
thing  to  seek  to  develop  piety  while  you  omit  its 
several  elements,  the  intellectual  love  of  truth,  the 

14 


158  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION    AND    THE   SOUL. 

moral  love   of  justice,  and   the   affectional   love  of 
men.     But  in  such  a  case  what  is  the  value  of  the 
"piety"  thus  produced?     The  soul  acting  without 
the  mind  goes  to  superstition  and  bigotry.     It  has 
its  conception  of  God,  but  of  a  God  that  is  foolish 
and  silly.     Reason  will  be  thought  carnal,  science 
dangerous,   and  a  doubt  an  impiety  ;   the  greatest 
absurdities  will  be  taught  in  the  name  of  religion ; 
the  philosophy  of  some  half-civilized,  but  God-fear- 
ing people,  will  be  put  upon  the  minds  of  men  as 
the  word  of  God ;  the  priest  will  hate  the  philoso- 
pher, and  the  philosopher  the  priest;  men  of  able  in- 
tellect will  flee  off  and   loathe  ecclesiastical  piety. 
If  the  churches  will  have  a  religion  without  philoso- 
phy, scholars  will  have  a  philosophy  without  relig- 
ion.    The  Roman  Church  forbid  science,  burnt  Jor- 
dano    Bruno,  and   reduced   Galileo   to  silence  and 
his   knees.     So    much   the   worse   for   the    Church. 
The  French  philosophy  of  the  last  century,  its  En- 
cyclopaedia of  scoffs  at  religion,  were  the  unavoid- 
able counterpart.     Voltaire  and  Diderot  took    ven- 
geance  for  the   injustice   done   to   their  philosophic 
forerunners.      The  fagots  of  the   Middle   Ages  got 
repaid  by  the  fiery  press  of  the  last  generation. 

You  may  try  and  develop  the  soul  to  the  neglect 
of  conscience  :  —  your  Antinomian  will  recognize  no 
moral  law :  "  All  things  are  permissible  to  the  elect ; 
let    them  do  what  they  will,  they   cannot  sin,  for 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL.  159 

they  are  born  of  God ;  the  moral  law  is  needless 
under  the  Gospel,"  says  he.  Religion  will  be  made 
the  pander  of  wrong,  and  priests  will  pimp  for 
respectable  iniquity.  God  is  thus  represented  as 
unjust,  partial,  cruel,  and  full  of  vengeance.  The 
most  unjust  things  will  be  demanded  in  his  name ; 
the  laws  and  practices  of  a  barbarous  nation  will  be 
ascribed  to  God,  and  men  told  to  observe  and  keep 
them.  Religion  will  aim  to  conserve  the  ritual  bar- 
barities of  ruder  times.  Moral  works  will  be 
thought  hostile  to  piety,  —  goodness  regarded  as  of 
no  value,  rather  as  proof  that  a  man  is  not  under 
the  "  covenant  of  grace,"  but  only  of  works.  Con- 
science will  be  declared  an  uncertain  guide.  No 
"  higher  law  "  will  be  allowed  in  religion,  —  only  the 
interest  of  the  politician  and  the  calculation  of  the 
merchant  must  bear  rule  in  the  State.  The  whim 
of  some  priest,  a  new  or  an  old  traditionary  whim, 
must,  be  the  rule  in  the  Church.  It  will  then  be 
taught  that  religion  is  for  the  Sunday  and  "  holy 
communion ;  "  business  for  the  week,  and  daily  life. 
The  "most  respectable  churches"  will  be  such  as  do 
nothing  to  make  the  world  a  better  place,  and  men 
and  women  fitter  to  live  in  it.  The  catechism  will 
have  nothing  to  do  with  the  conduct,  nor  prayers 
with  practice.  But  if  the  churches  will  have  relig- 
ion without  morals,  many  a  good  and  conscientious 
man  will   go    to    the    opposite    extreme,    and    have 


160  CONSCIOUS    RELIGION   AND    THE   SOUL. 

morals  without  religion, — will  jeer  and  mock  at  all 
complete  and  conscious  piety ;  eminently  moral  men 
will  flee  off  from  the  churches,  which  will  be  left 
with  their  idle  mummeries  and  vain  conceits. 

Men  sometimes  seek  to  develop  the  religious  ele- 
ment while  they  depress  the  affectiorial.  Then  they 
promote  fanaticism — hate  before  God,  which  so 
often  has  got  organized  in  the  world.  Then  God  is 
represented  as  jealous,  partial,  loving  only  a  few, 
and  of  course  Himself  unlovely.  He  sits  as  a  tyrant 
on  the  throne  of  the  world,  and  with  his  rod  of  iron 
rules  the  nations  whom  he  has  created  for  his  glory, 
to  damn  for  his  caprice.  He  is  represented  as  hav- 
ing a  little,  narrow  heaven,  where  he  will  gather  a 
few  of  his  children,  whining  and  dawdling  out  a  life 
of  eternal  indolence ;  and  a  great,  wide  hell,  full  of 
men,  demons,  and  torments  lasting  for  ever  and 
ever.  Then,  in  the  name  of  God,  men  are  bid  to 
have  no  fellowship  with  unbelievers,  no  sympathy 
with  sinners.  Nay,  you  are  bidden  to  hate  your 
brethren  of  a  different  mode  of  religious  belief.  This 
fanaticism  organizes  itself,  now  into  brief  and  tem- 
porary activity,  to  persecute  a  saint,  or  to  stone  a 
philanthopist ;  now  into  permanent  institutions  for 
the  defence  of  heathenism,  Judaism,  Mohammedan- 
ism, or  Christianity.  The  fires  in  which  Catholics 
and  Protestants  have  burnt  their  brother  Christians, 
the  dreadful  tortures  which  savage  heathens  have  in- 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL.  161 

flicted  on  the  followers  of  Jesus,  have  all  been  pre- 
pared by  the   same   cause,   hatred  in   the   name   of 
God.     It  is  this  which  has  made  many  a  temporary 
hell  on  earth,  and  fancied  and  taught  an  eternal  hell 
beneath  it.     Brief  St.  Bartholomew  massacres,  long 
and  lasting  crusades  against  Albigenses  or  Saracens, 
permanent    Inquisitions,    laws    against   unbelievers, 
atheists,    quakers,  deists,  and  Christians,  all  spring 
from  this  same  wantonness   of  the  religious  senti- 
ment  rioting   with    ungodly  passions    of  the    flesh. 
The  malignant  priest  looks   out  of  the  storm  of  his 
hate,  and  smites  men  in  the  name  of  religion  and  of 
God.     But  then  the  affectionate  man  turns  off  from 
the  God  who  is  "a  consuming  fire,"  from  the  "relig- 
ion" that  scorches  and  burns  up  the  noblest  emo- 
tions of  mankind,  and,  if  others  will  have  a  worship 
without  love  in  the  worshippers  or  the  worshipped, 
he  will  have  love  without  religion,  and  philanthropy 
without  God.     So,  in  the  desert,  the  Arab  sees  the 
whirlwind  coming  with  its  tornado   of  fiery   sand, 
and  hastens  from  its  track,  or  lies  down,  he  and  his 
camels,  till  the  horrid  storm  has  spent  its  rage  and 
passed  away ;  then  he  rises  and  resumes  his  peace- 
ful pilgrimage  with  thanks  to  God. 

How  strong  is  the  family  instinct !  how  beautiful 
is  it  when,  passion  and  affection  blending  together, 
it  joins  man  and  maid  into  one  complete  and  perfect 
solidarity  of  human  life,  each  finding  wholeness  and 

14* 


162  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL. 

enjoyment  while    seeking  only  to    delight!     What 
beautiful  homes  are   built  on  marriages  like  that ! 
what  families  of  love  are  born  and  bred  therein  !  but 
take  away  the  affection,  the  self-denial,  the  mutual 
surrender,  aggravate  the  instinctive  love  to  the  un- 
natural selfishness  of  lust  seeking  its  own  enjoyment, 
heedless  of  its  victim,  and  how  hateful  is  the  beastly 
conjunction  of  David,  Solomon,  Messallina,  Moham- 
med, of  Gallic  Cassanova,  or  Moscovian  Catharine. 
Religion  bereft  of  love  to  men  becomes  more  hateful 
yet,  —  a  lusting  after  God.     It  has  reddened  with 
blood  many  a  page  of  human  history,  and  made  the 
ideal  torments  of  hell  a  flaming  fact  in  every  Chris- 
tian land.     The  Catharines  of  such  a  religion,  the 
Cassanovas  of  the  soul,  are  to   me   more   hideous 
than  Bacchanalians  of  the  flesh.     Let  us  turn  off 
our  eyes  from  a  sight  so  foul. 

Piety  of  mind,  the  love  of  truth,  is  only  a  frag- 
ment of  piety  ;  piety  of  conscience,  the  love  of  right, 
is  also  fragmentary  ;  so  is  love  of  men,  piety  of  the 
heart.  Each  is  a  beautiful  fragment,  all  three  not 
a  whole  piety.  We  want  to  unite  them  all  with  the 
consciousness  of  God,  into  a  complete,  perfect,  and 
total  religion,  the  piety  of  mind  and  conscience, 
heart  and  soul,  —  to  love  God  with  all  the  faculties, 
—  to  love  Him  as  truth,  as  justice,  as  love,  as  God, 
who  unites  in  Himself  infinite  truth,  infinite  justice, 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL.  163 

infinite  love,  and  is  the  Father  of  all.  We  need  to 
do  this  consciously,  to  be  so  wonted  to  thus  loving 
Him,  that  it  is  done  spontaneously,  without  effort, 
and  yet  not  merely  by  instinct ;  done  personally,  not 
against  our  own  consent.  Then  we  want  to  express 
this  fourfold  total  piety  by  our  outward  morality,  in 
its  natural  forms  and  various  degrees. 

I  mentioned,  that  in  human  history  the  religious 
faculty  had  often  tyrannized  over  the  other  powers 
of  men ;  I  think  it  should  precede  them  in  its  de- 
velopment, should  be  the  controlling  power  in  every 
man,  the  universal  force  which  sways  the  several 
parts.  In  the  history  of  man  the  soul  has  done  so, 
but  in  most  perverse  forms  of  action.  In  the  mass 
of  men  the  religious  element  is  always  a  little  in 
advance  of  all  the  rest.  Last  Sunday  I  said  that 
the  affections  often  performed  an  idealizing  and 
poetizing  function  in  men  who  found  it  not  in  the 
intellect  or  the  moral  sense.  In  the  vast  majority  of 
men  it  is  religion  that  thus  idealizes  and  adorns 
their  life,  and  gives  the  rude  worshipper  an  intimate 
gladness  and  delight  beyond  the  reach  of  art.  The 
doctrine  of  Fate  and  Foreordination  idealizes  the 
life  of  the  Mohammedan ;  he  feels  elevated  to  the 
rank  of  an  instrument  of  God ;  he  has  an  inflexible 
courage,  and  a  patience  which  bears  all  that  courage 
cannot  overcome.  The  camel-driver  of  the  Arabian 
prophet  rejoiced  in  this  intimate   connection   with 


164  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

God,  a  spoke  in  the  wheel  of  the  Unalterable.     The 
thought  that  Jehovah  watched  over  Israel  with  spe- 
cial  love,  consoled   the    Hebrews    who   hung  their 
harps  on  the  willows  of  Babylon,  and  sat  down  and 
wept ;  it  brought  out  of  their  hearts  stories  like  that 
of  Jonah,  Esther,  and  Daniel,  and  the  sweet  Psalms 
of  comfort  which  the  world  will  not  forget  to  sing. 
How  it  has  sustained  the  nation,  wandering,  exiled 
and  hated,  in  all  the  corners  of  the   world!     The 
God  of  Jacob  is  their  refuge  and  the  Holy  One  of 
Israel  the  joy  of  their   hearts.     Faith  in  God  sus- 
tained and  comforted  our  fathers  here  in  New  Eng- 
land.     Their    affections  went   wandering    over   the 
waters  to  many  a  pleasant   home  in  the  dear  old 
island  of  the  sea,  and  a  tear  fell  on  the  snow,  at  the 
thought  that,  far  over  the  waters,  the  first  violet  was 
fragrant  on  a  mother's  grave ;  but  the  consciousness 
of   God  lit  a  smile  in   the    Puritan's   heart   which 
chased  the  tear  from  his  manly  cheek. 

The  thought  that  God  sees  us,  knows  us,  loves  us, 
idealizes  the  life  of  all  religious  men.  How  it  blunts 
the  edge  of  pain,  takes  away  the  sting  of  disappoint- 
ment, abates  the  bitterness  of  many  a  sorrowful  cup 
which  we  are  called  to  drink !  If  you  are  sure  of 
God,  is  there  any  thing  which  you  cannot  bear? 
The  belief  in  immortality  is  so  intimately  connected 
with  the  development  of  religion,  that  no  nation  ever 
doubted  of  eternal  life.     How  that  idealizes  and  em- 


CONSCIOUS   "RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL.  165 

bellishes  all  our  daily  doing  and  suffering!  What  a 
power  is  there  that  hangs  over  me,  within  a  day's 
march  perhaps,  nay,  within  an  easy  walk  of  an  hour, 
or  a  min nte  it  may  be,  certainly  not  far  off,  its  gates 
wide  open  night  and  day !  The  weary  soul  flees 
thither  right  often.  Poor,  weary,  worn-out  millions, 
it  is  your  heaven  !  No  king  can  shut  you  out.  The 
tyrants,  shooting  their  victim's  body,  shoot  his  soul 
into  the  commonwealth  of  heaven.  The  martyr 
knows  it,  and  laughs  at  the  bullets  which  make  an 
involuntary  subject  of  despotism  an  immortal  repub- 
lican, giving  him  citizenship  in  the  democracy  of 
everlasting  life.  There  the  slave  is  free  from  his 
master ;  the  weary  is  at  rest ;  the  needy  has  no  want 
of  bread  ;  all  tears  are  wiped  from  every  eye  ;  justice 
is  done ;  souls  dear  to  ours  are  in  our  arms  once 
more  ;  the  distractions  of  life  are  all  over  ;  no  injus- 
tice, no  sorrow,  no  fear.  That  is  the  great  comfort 
with  the  mass  of  mankind, — the  most  powerful 
talisman  which  enchants  them  of  their  weary  woe. 
Men  sing  Anacreontic  odes,  amid  wine  and  women, 
and  all  the  voluptuousness  of  art,  buying  a  tran- 
sient jollity  of  the  flesh  ;  but  the  Methodist  finds  poe- 
try in  his  mystic  hymn  to  take  away  the  grief  of  a 
wound  and  leave  no  poison  in  its  place.  The  rud- 
est Christian,  with  a  real  faith  in  immortal  life,  has 
a  means  of  adorning  the  world  which  puts  to  shame 
the  poor  finery  of   Nicholas  and    Nebuchadnezzar. 


166  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

What  are  the  prizes  of  wealth,  of  fame,  of  genius, 
nay,  of  affection,  compared  with  what  we  all  antici- 
pate erelong  ?  The  worst  man  that  ever  lived  may 
find  delight  overmastering  terror  here.  "  I  am 
wicked,"  he  may  say ;  "  God  knows  how  I  became 
so  ;  his  infinite  love  will  one  day  save  me  out  of  my 
bitterness  and  my  woe!"  I  once  knew  a  man  tor- 
mented with  a  partner,  cruel  and  hard-hearted,  inge- 
nious only  to  afflict.  In  the  midst  of  her  torment  he 
delighted  to  think  of  the  goodness  of  God,  and  of 
the  delights  of  heaven,  and  in  the  pauses  of  her 
tongue  dropped  to  a  heaven  of  lovely  dreams  un- 
sullied by  any  memory  of  evil  words. 

Religion  does  not  produce  its  fairest  results  in 
persons  of  small  intellectual  culture  ;  yet  there  it 
often  spreads  a  charm  and  a  gladness  which  nothing 
else  can  give.  I  have  known  men,  and  still  oftener 
women,  nearly  all  of  whose  culture  had  come  through 
their  religious  activity.  Religion  had  helped  their 
intellect,  their  conscience,  even  their  affections ;  by 
warming  the  whole  ground  of  their  being,  had  quick- 
ened the  growth  of  each  specific  plant  thereof. 
Young  observers  are  often  amazed  at  this,  not 
knowing  then  the  greener  growth  and  living  power 
of  a  religious  soul.  In  such  persons,  spite  of  lack  of 
early  intellectual  culture,  and  continual  exclusion 
from  the  common  means  of  refinement,  you  find 
piety  without  narrowness,  zeal  without  bigotry,  and 


CONSCIOUS   KELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL.  167 

trust  in  God  with  no  cant.  Their  world  of  observa- 
tion was  not  a  wide  world,  not  much  varied,  not 
rich  ;  but  their  religious  experience  was  deep,  their 
consciousness  of  divine  things  extended  high.  They 
were  full  of  love  and  trust  in  God.  ,Religion  was 
the  joy  of  their  heart,  and  their  portion  for  ever. 
They  felt  that  God  was  about  them,  immanent  in 
matter,  within  not  less,  dwelling  in  their  spirit,  a 
present  help  in  their  hour  of  need,  which  was  their 
every  hour.  Piety  was  their  only  poetry  ;  out  of 
ignorance,  out  of  want,  out  of  pain,  which  lay  heavy 
about  them,  —  a  triple  darkness  that  covered  the 
people,  —  they  looked  up  to  heaven,  and  saw  the 
star  of  everlasting  life,  which  sent  its  mild  beams 
into  their  responsive  soul.  Dark  without,  it  was 
all-glorious  within.  Men  with  proud  intellect  go 
haughtily  by  these  humble  souls ;  but  Mohammeds, 
Luthers,  are  born  of  such  a  stock,  and  it  is  from 
these  little  streams  that  the  great  ocean  of  religion  is 
filled  full. 

Yet  it  is  not  in  cases  like  these  that  you  see  the 
fairest  effects  of  religion.  The  four  prismatic  rays 
of  piety  must  be  united  into  one  natural  and  four- 
fold beam  of  light,  to  shine  with  all  their  beauty, 
all  their  power;  then  each  is  enhanced.  I  love  truth 
the  more  for  loving  justice  ;  both  the  more  for  loving 
love ;  all  three  the  more,  when  I  see  them  as  forms 
of  God  ;  and  in  a  totality  of  religion  I  worship  the 


168  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL. 

Father,  who  is  truth,  justice,  and  love,  who  is  the 
Infinite  God. 

The  affections  want  a  person  to  cling  to;  —  my 
soul  reveals  to  me  God,  without  the  limitations  of 
human  personality ;  Him  I  can  love,  and  not  be 
narrowed  by  my  affections.  If  I  love  a  limited 
object,  I  grow  up  to  the  bigness  thereof,  then  stop ; 
it  helps  my  growth  no  more.  The  finiteness  of  my 
friend  admits  no  absolute  affection.  Partial  love 
must  not  disturb  the  universal  sweep  of  impersonal 
truth  and  justice.  The  object  of  the  heart  must  not 
come  between  me  and  the  object  of  mind  or  con- 
science, and  enfeeble  the  man.  But  if  you  love  the 
Infinite  God,  it  is  with  all  your  faculties,  which 
find  their  complete  and  perfect  object,  and  you 
progressively  grow  up  towards  him,  to  be  like  him. 
The  idea  of  God  becomes  continually  more,  your 
achievement  of  the  divine  becomes  more.  You 
love  with  no  divided  love  ;  there  is  no  collision  of 
faculties,  the  head  forbidding  what  the  soul  com- 
mands, the  heart  working  one  way  and  the  con- 
science another.  The  same  Object  corresponds  to 
all  these  faculties,  which  love  Him  as  truth,  as  jus- 
tice, as  love,  as  God  who  is  all  in  all ;  one  central 
sun  balances  and  feeds  with  fire  this  system  of  har- 
monious orbs. 

Consider  the  power  of  religion  in  a  man  whose 
mind  and  conscience,  heart  and  soul,  are  all  well 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION  AND   THE   SOUL.  169 

developed.     He  has  these  four  forms  of  piety ;  they 
all   unite,  each  to  all,  and  all  to  each.     His  mind 
gives  him  knowledge  of  truth,  the  necessary  con- 
dition for  the  highest  action  of  his  conscience  ;  that 
furnishes  him  with  the  idea  of  justice,  which  is  the 
necessary    condition    for   the   highest   action   of  the 
affections;  they  in  their  development  extend  to  all  in 
their  wide  love  of  men ;  this  affords  the  necessary 
condition  for  the  highest  action  of  the  soul,  which 
can  then  love  God  with  absolute  love,  and,  joining 
with  all  the  other  activity  of  the  man,  helps  the  use, 
development,  and  enjoyment  of  every  faculty.    Then 
truth  has  lost  its  coldness ;  justice  is  not  hard  and 
severe ;    love   is   not    partial,   as   when    limited   to 
family,  tribe,  or  nation ;  but,  coextensive  with  jus- 
tice, applies  to  all  mankind  ;  faith  is  not  mystical  or 
merely   introversive    and   quietistic.      This    fourfold 
action  joins  in  one  unity  of  worship,  in  love  of  God, 
—  love  with  the  highest  and  conjoint  action  of  all 
the  faculties  of  man.     Then  love  of  the  Infinite  God 
is  no  mystical  abstraction,  no  dreamy  sentimental- 
ism,  but  the  normal  action  of  the  entire  man,  every 
faculty  seeking  its  finite  contentment,  and  finding 
also  its  infinite  satisfaction  by  feeling  the  life  of  God 
in  the  soul  of  man. 

In  our  time,  as  often  before,  attempts  are  making 
to  cultivate  the  soul,  in  the  narrowest  way,  without 

15 


170  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE   SOUL. 

developing  the  other  parts  of  man's  spiritual  nature. 
The    intellect   is    called  "carnal,"  conscience  "dan- 
gerous," and  the  heart  "  deceitful."     We  are  told  to 
trust  none  of  these  in  matters  of  religion.     Accord- 
ingly,  ecclesiastical    men    complain    that   "  science 
is  not  religious,"  because  it  breaks  down  the  "  ven- 
erable doctrines"  of  the    Church,  —  because  geolo- 
gists have  swept  away  the  flood,  grammarians  anni- 
hilated the  tower  of  Babel,  and  physiologists  brushed 
off  the  miracles  of  the  Jews,  the  Greeks,  the  Hin- 
doos, and  the  Christians,  to  the  same  dust-hole  of 
the  ages  and  repository  of  rubbish.    It  is  complained 
that  "  morality  is  not  religious,"  because  it  refuses  to 
be  comforted  with  the  forms  of  religious  ceremony, 
and  thinks  "  divine  service  "  is  not  merely  sitting  in 
a  church,  or  listening  to  even  the  wisest  words.    The 
churches  complain  also  that  "  philanthropy  is  not  re- 
ligious," but  love  of  men  dissuades  us  from  love  of 
God.     The  philanthropist  looks  out  on  the  evils  of 
society, —  on  the  slavery  whose  symbol  is  the  lash, 
and  the  slavery  whose  symbol  is  the  dollar ;  on  the 
avarice,    the    intemperance,    the    licentiousness    of 
men ;  and  calls  on  mankind  in  the  name  of  God  to 
put  away  all  this  wickedness.     The  churches  say.: 
"Rather  receive  our  sacraments.     Religion  has  noth- 
ing to  do  with  such  matters." 

This   being  the  case,  men  of  powerful  character 
no  longer  betake  themselves  to  the  Church  as  their 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL.  171 

fortress  whence  to  assail  the  evils  of  the  age,  or  as 
their  hermitage  wherein  to  find  rest  to  their  souls. 
In" all  England  there  are  few  men,  I  think,  of  first- 
rate  ability  who  speak  from  a  pulpit.  Let  me  do  no 
injustice  to  minds  like  three  great  men  honoring  her 
pulpits  now,  but  has  England  a  clerical  scholar  to 
rival  the  intellectual  affluence  of  Hooker,  and  Bar- 
row, and  Taylor,  and  Cudworth,  and  South  ?  The 
great  names  of  English  literature  at  this  day,  Car- 
lyle,  Hallam,  Macaulay,  Mill,  Grote,  and  the  rest, 
seem  far  enough  from  the  Church,  or  its  modes  of 
salvation.  The  counting-house  sends  out  men  to 
teach  political  economy,  looking  always  to  the 
kitchen  of  the  nation,  and  thinking  of  the  stomach 
of  the  people.  Does  the  Church  send  out  men  of 
corresponding  power  to  think  of  the  soul  of  the  na- 
tion, and  teach  the  people  political  morality  ?  Was 
Bishop  Butler  the  last  of  the  great  men  who  essayed 
to  teach  Britain  from  her  established  pulpit?  Even 
Priestley  has  few  successors  in  the  ranks  of  religious 
dissent.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Church  poets : 
they  are  often  well-bred  ;  what  one  of  them  is  there 
that  was  well-born  for  his  high  vocation  ? 

In  the  American  Church  there  is  the  same  famine 
of  men.  Edwards  and  Mayhew  belonged  to  a  race 
now  extinct,  —  great  men  in  pulpits.  In  our  litera- 
ture there  are  names  enough  once  clerical.  The 
very  fairest  names  on  our  little  hill  of  the  Muses  are 


172  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL. 

of  men  once  clergymen.  Channing  is  the  only  one 
in  this  country  who  continued  thus  to  the  end  of 
life.  A  crowd  of  able  men,  with  a  mob  of  others, 
press  into  all  departments  of  trade,  into  the  profes- 
sion of  the  law,  and  the  headlong  race  of  American 
politics,  —  where  a  reputation  is  gained  without  a 
virtue  or  lost  without  a  crime,  —  but  no  men  of  first- 
rate  powers  and  attainments  continue  in  the  pulpit. 
Hence  we  have  strong-minded  men  in  business,  in 
politics,  and  law,  who  teach  men  the  measures  which 
seem  to  suit  the  evanescent  interests  of  the  day,  but 
few  in  pulpits,  to  teach  men  the  eternal  principles  of 
justice,  which  really  suit  the  present  and  also  the 
everlasting  interests  of  mankind.  Hence  no  popular 
and  deadly  sin  of  the  nation  gets  well  rebuked  by 
the  Church  of  the  Times.  The  dwarfs  of  the  pulpit 
hide  their  diminished  heads  before  the  Anakim  of 
politics  and  trade.  The  almighty  dollar  hunts  wis- 
dom, justice,  and  philanthropy  out  of  the  American 
Church.  It  is  only  among  the  fanatical  Mormons 
that  the  ablest  men  teach  in  the  name  of  God. 

The  same  is  mainly  true  of  all  Christendom. 
The  Church  which  in  her  productive  period  had  an 
Origen,  a  Chrysostom,  an  Augustine,  a  Jerome,  an 
Aquinas,  its  Gregories  and  its  Basils,  had  real  saints 
and  willing  martyrs,  in  the  nineteenth  century  can- 
not show  a  single  mind  which  is  a  guide  of  the  age. 


CONSCIOUS   KELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL.  173 

The  great   philosophers  of  Europe   are   far  enough 
from  Christian. 

It  is,  doubtless,  a  present  misfortune  that  the  posi- 
tions most  favorable  to  religious  influence  are  filled 
with  feeble  men,  or  such  as  care  little  for  the  welfare 
of  mankind,  —  who  have  all  of  religion  except  its 
truth,  its  justice,  its  philanthropy,  and  its  faith. 
Still,  such  is  the  fact  just  now  ;  a  fact  which  shows 
plainly  enough  the  position  of  what  is  popularly 
called  "  Christianity"  in  the  world  of  men.  The 
form  of  religion  first  proclaimed  by  the  greatest  re- 
ligious genius  that  ever  lit  the  world,  and  sealed  by 
his  martyrdom,  is  now  officially  represented  by  men 
of  vulgar  talents,  of  vulgar  aspirations,  —  to  be  rich, 
respectable,  and  fat,  —  and  of  vulgar  lives.  Hunkers 
of  the  Church  claim  exclusively  to  represent  the  mar- 
tyr of  the  Cross.     A  sad  sight ! 

Yet  still  religion  is  a  great  power  amongst  men, 
spite  of  these  disadvantages.  It  was  never  so  great 
before  ;  for  in  the  progressive  development  of  man- 
kind the  higher  faculties  acquire  continually  a 
greater  and  greater  influence.  If  Christianity  means 
what  was  true  and  good  in  the  teaching  and  charac- 
ter of  Jesus,  then  there  was  never  so  much  of  it  in 
the  world.  Spite  of  the  defalcation  and  opposition 
of  the  churches,  there  is  a  continual  growth  in  all 
those  four  forms  of  piety.     Under  the  direction  of 

15* 


174  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

able  men,  all  those  fragments  of  religion  are  made 
ready  in  their  several  places.  In  the  department  of 
mind,  see  how  much  has  been  done  in  this  last  hun- 
dred years  ;  man  has  nearly  doubled  the  intellectual 
property  of  the  seventeenth  century.  The  early  his- 
tory of  mankind  is  better  understood  now  than  by 
the  nations  who  lived  it.  What  discoveries  of 
science  in  all  that  relates  to  the  heavens,  to  the  earth 
and  its  inhabitants,  mineral,  vegetable,  animal,  hu- 
man !  In  the  philosophy  of  man,  how  much  has 
been  done  to  understand  his  nature  and  his  history! 
In  practical  affairs,  see  what  wonders  have  been 
wrought  in  a  hundred  years ;  look  at  England, 
France,  Germany,  and  America,  and  see  the  power 
of  the  scientific  head  over  the  world  of  matter,  the 
human  power  gained  by  better  political  organization 
of  the  tribes  of  men. 

In  the  department  of  conscience,  see  what  a  love 
of  justice  develops  itself  in  all  Christendom  ;  see  the 
results  of  this  for  the  last  hundred  years ;  in  the  re- 
form of  laws,  of  constitutions,  in  the  great  politi- 
cal, social,  and  domestic  revolutions  of  our  time. 
Men  have  clearer  ideas  of  justice  ;  they  would  have 
a  church  without  a  bishop,  a  State  without  a  king, 
society  without  a  lord,  and  a  family  without  a  slave. 
From  this  troublesome  conscience  comes  the  uneasi- 
ness of  the  Christian  world.  A  revolution  is  a  na- 
tion's act  of  penitence,  of  resolution,  and  of  prayer, 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL.  175 

—  its  agony  and  bloody  sweat.  See  what  a  love  of 
freedom  there  is  shaking  the  institutions  of  the  aged 
world.  Tyrannies  totter  before  the  invisible  hand  of 
Justice,  which,  to  the  terror  of  the  oppressors,  writes, 
"  Weighed,  and  found  wanting."  So  the  despot 
trembles  for  his  guilty  throne ;  the  slave-driver  be- 
gins to  fear  the  God  of  the  man  he  has  kidnapped 
and  enthralled.  See  the  attempts  making  by  the 
people  to  break  down  monopolies,  to  promote  free- 
dom of  intercourse  between  all  nations  of  the  earth. 
See  woman  assert  her  native  rights,  long  held  in 
abeyance  by  the  superior  vigor  of  the  manly  arm. 

In  all  that  pertains  to  the  affections,  there  has 
been  a  great  advance.  Love  travels  beyond  the  nar- 
row bounds  of  England  and  of  Christendom.  See 
the  efforts  making  to  free  the  slave  ;  to  elevate  the 
poor, —  removing  the  causes  of  poverty  by  the  char- 
ity that  alleviates  and  the  justice  that  cures ;  to  heal 
the  drunkard  of  his  fiery  thirst ;  to  reform  the  crimi- 
nals whom  once  we  only  hung.  The  gallows  must 
come  down,  the  dungeon  be  a  school  for  piety,  not 
the  den  of  vengeance  and  of  rage.  Great  pains  be- 
gin to  be  taken  with  the  deaf  and  dumb,  the  blind, 
the  insane  ;  even  the  idiot  must  be  taught.  Philan- 
thropic men,  who  are  freedom  to  the  slave,  feet  to 
the  lame,  eyes  to  the  blind,  and  hearing  to  the  deaf, 
would  be  also  understanding  to  the  fool.  In  what  is 
idly  called  "an  age  of  faith,"  the  town  council  of 


176  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL. 

Grenoble  set  archers  at  the  gates,  to  draw  upon 
strange  beggars  and  shoot  them  down  before  the 
city  walls.  Look,  now,  at  the  New  England  provi- 
sion for  the  destitute,  —  for  the  support  of  their 
bodies  and  the  culture  of  their  minds. 

No  Church  leads  off  in  these  movements  ;  eccle- 
siastical men  take  small  interest  therein  ;  but  they 
come  from  the  three  partial  forms  of  piety,  the  intel- 
lectual, the  moral,  and  the  affectional.  We  need  to 
have  these  all  united  with  a  conscious  love  of  God. 
What  hinders  ?  The  old  ecclesiastical  idea  of  God, 
as  finite,  imperfect  in  wisdom,  in  justice,  and  in  love, 
still  blocks  the  way.  The  God  wholly  external  to 
the  world  of  matter,  acting  by  fits  and  starts,  is  not 
God  enough  for  science,  which  requires  a  uniform, 
infinite  force,  with  constant  modes  of  action.  The 
capricious  Deity,  wholly  external  to  the  human 
spirit, — jealous,  partial,  loving  Jacob  and  hating 
Esau,  revengeful,  blasting  with  endless  hell  all  but  a 
fraction  of  his  family,  —  this  is  not  God  enough  for 
the  scientific  moralist,  and  the  philanthropist  run- 
ning over  with  love.  They  want  a  God  immanent 
in  matter,  immanent  in  spirit,  yet  infinite,  and  so 
transcending  both,  —  the  God  of  infinite  perfection, 
infinite  power,  wisdom,  justice,  love,  and  self-fidelity. 
This  idea  is  a  stranger  to  the  Christian,  as  to  the 
Hebrew  and  Mohammedan  church ;  and  so  stout 
men  turn  off  therefrom,  or  else  are  driven  away  with 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL.  177 

hated  names.  One  day  these  men  will  welcome  the 
true  idea  of  God,  and  have  a  conscious  trust  and 
love  of  Him  to  match  their  science,  their  justice,  and 
their  love  of  men ;  will  become  the  prophets  and 
apostles  of  the  Absolute  Religion,  finding  it  wide 
enough  for  all  truth,  all  justice,  and  all  love,  yea,  for 
an  absolute  faith  in  God,  in  his  motives,  means,  and 
ends.  Then  all  this  science  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury, all  this  practical  energy,  this  wide  command 
over  Nature,  this  power  to  organize  the  world  of 
matter  and  yoke  it  to  the  will  of  man,  this  love  of 
freedom  and  power  to  combine  vast  masses  in  pro- 
ductive industry ;  then  all  this  wide  literature  of 
modern  times,  glittering  with  many-colored  riches, 
and  spread  abroad  so  swift ;  then  all  this  morality 
which  clamors  for  the  native  right  of  men,  this  wide 
philanthropy,  laying  down  its  life  to  bless  mankind, 
—  all  this  shall  join  with  the  natural  emotions  of 
the  soul,  welcoming  the  Infinite  God.  It  shall  all 
unite  into  one  religion  ;  each  part  thereof  "  may 
call  the  farthest  brother."  Then  what  a  work  will 
religion  achieve  in  the  affairs  of  men !  "What  in- 
stitutions will  it  build,  what  welfare  will  it  pro- 
duce on  earth,  what  men  bring  forth !  Even  now 
the  several  means  are  working  for  this  one  great 
end,  only  not  visibly,  not  with  the  consciousness  of 
men. 

I  do  not  complain  of  the  "  decline  of  piety."     I 


178  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE   SOUL. 

thank  God  for  its  increase.  I  see  what  has  been 
done,  but  I  look  also  to  what  remains  to  do.  I  am 
sure  that  mankind  will  do  it.  God  is  a  master 
workman  ;  He  made  man  well,  —  for  an  end  worthy 
of  God,  provided  with  means  quite  adequate  to  that 
end.  No  man,  not  an  Isaiah  or  a  Jesus,  ever  dares 
prophesy  so  high  but  man  fulfils  the  oracle,  and 
then  goes  dreaming  his  prophecy  anew,  and  fulfil- 
ling it  as  he  goes  on.  If  you  have  a  true  idea  of  jus- 
tice, a  true  sentiment  of  philanthropy  or  of  faith  in 
God,  which  men  have  not  yet  welcomed,  if  you 
can  state  your  idea  in  speech,  then  mankind  will 
stop  and  realize  your  idea,  —  make  your  abstract 
thought  their  concrete  thing.  Kings  are  nothing, 
armies  fall  before  you.  The  idea  sways  them  in  its 
flight  as  the  wind  of  summer  bows  the  unripe  corn 
of  June. 

This  religion  will  build  temples,  not  of  stone  only, 
but  temples  of  living  stones,  temples  of  men,  fami- 
lies, communities,  nations,  and  a  world.  "VVe  want 
no  monarchies  in  the  name  of  God ;  we  do  want  a 
democracy  in  that  name,  a  democracy  which  rests 
on  human  nature,  and,  respecting  that,  reenacts  the 
natural  laws  of  God,  the  Constitution  of  the  Uni- 
verse, in  the  common  statutes  and  written  laws  of 
the  land. 

We  need  this  religion  for  its  general  and  its  spe- 
cial purposes  ;  need  it  as  subjective  piety  in  each  of 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL.  179 

these  fragmentary  forms,  as  joined  into  a  totality  of 
religious  consciousness ;  we  need  it  as  morality, 
keeping  the  natural  laws  of  God  for  the  body  and 
the  spirit,  in  the  individual,  domestic,  social,  na- 
tional, and  general  human  or  cosmic  form,  the  divine 
sentiment  becoming  the  human  act.  We  need  this 
to  heal  the  vices  of  modern  society,  to  revolutionize 
this  modern  feudalism  of  gold,  and  join  the  rich  and 
poor,  the  employer  and  the  employed,  in  one  bond 
of  human  fellowship  ;  we  need  it  to  break  down  the 
wall  between  class  and  class,  nation  and  nation, 
race  and  race,  —  to  join  all  classes  into  one  nation, 
all  nations  into  one  great  human  family.  Science 
alone  is  not  adequate  to  achieve  this  ;  calculations 
of  interest  cannot  effect  it ;  political  economy  will 
not  check  the  iron  hand  of  power,  nor  relax  the 
grasp  of  the  oppressor  from  his  victim's  throat. 
Only  religion,  deep,  wide  spread,  and  true,  can 
achieve  this  work. 

Already  it  is  going  forward,  not  under  the  guid- 
ance of  one  great  man  with  ideas  to  direct  the 
march,  and  mind  to  plan  the  structure  of  the  future 
age,  but  under  many  men,  who  know  each  his 
little  speciality,  all  their  several  parts,  while  the 
Infinite  Architect  foresees  and  so  provides  for  all. 
Much  has  been  done  in  this  century,  now  only 
half  spent;  much  more  is  a-doing.  But  the  great- 
est of  its  works  is  one  which  men  do  not  talk  about, 


180  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE   SOUL. 

nor  see :  it  is  the  silent  development  of  the  several 
parts  of  a  complete  piety,  one  day  to  be  united  into 
a  consciousness  of  the  Absolute  Religion,  and  to  be 
the  parent  of  a  new  church  and  new  State,  with 
communities  and  families  such  as  the  world  has 
hitherto  not  seen. 

We  notice  the  material  works  of  our  time,  the 
industrial  activity,  the  rapid  increase  of  wealth  in 
either  England,  Old  or  New.  Foolish  men  deplore 
this,  and  would  go  back  to  the  time  when  an  igno- 
rant peasantry,  clad  in  sheep-skins,  full  of  blind,  in- 
stinctive faith  in  God,  and  following  only  as  they 
were  led  by  men,  built  up  the  cathedrals  of  Upsala 
and  Strasburg.  In  the  order  of  development,  the 
material  comes  first ;  even  the  excessive  lust  of  gain, 
now  turning  the  heads  of  Old  England  and  the 
New,  is  part  of  the  cure  of  the  former  unnatural 
mistake.  Gross  poverty  is  on  its  way  to  the  grave. 
The  natural  man  is  before  the  spiritual  man.  We 
are  laying  a  basis  for  a  spiritual  structure  which  no 
man  has  genius  yet  to  plan.  Years  ago  there  were 
crowds  of  men  at  work  in  Lebanon,  cutting  down 
the  algum,  the  cedar,  and  the  fir,  squaring  into  ash- 
lar, boring,  chiselling,  mortising,  tenoning,  all  man- 
ner of  beams ;  some  were  rafting  it  along  the  coast 
to  Joppa,  and  yet  others  teaming  it  up  to  Jerusalem. 
What  sweat  of  horses  was  there,  what  lowing  of 
oxen  and  complaint  from  the  camels!     Thousands 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL.  181 

of  men  were  quarrying  stone  at  Moriah  for  the  foun- 
dation of  the  work.  Yet  only  one  man  compre- 
hended it  all ;  the  lumberers  felling  the  cedar  and 
sycamore,  the  carpenters  and  the  muleteers,  under- 
stood each  their  special  work,  no  more.  But  the  son 
of  the  Danite  woman  planned  all  this  stone  and 
timber  into  a  temple,  which,  by  the  labor  of  many 
and  the  consciousness  of  a  few,  rose  up  on  the 
mountain  of  Jerusalem,  the  wonder  and  the  pride  of 
all  the  land.  So  the  great  work,  the  humanization 
of  man,  is  going  forward.  The  girl  that  weaves 
muslins  at  Brussels,  the  captain  of  the  emigrant 
ship  sailing  "  past  bleak  Mozambique,"  hungry  for 
Australian  gold,  the  chemist  who  annihilates  pain 
with  a  gas  and  teaches  lightning  to  read  and  write, 
the  philosopher  who  tells  us  the  mighty  faculties 
which  lie  hid  in  labyrinthine  man,  and  the  philan- 
thropic maiden  who  in  the  dirt  of  a  worldly  city 
lives  love  which  some  theologians  think  is  too  much 
for  God,  —  all  of  these,  and  thousands  more,  are  get- 
ting together  and  preparing  the  materials  for  the 
great  temple  of  man,  whose  builder  and  maker  is 
God.  You  and  I  shall  pass  away,  but  mankind  is 
the  true  son  of  God  that  abideth  ever,  to  whom  the 
Father  says  continually,  "  Come  up  higher." 

I  see  the  silent  growth  of  religion  in  men.  I  see 
that  the  spiritual  elements  are  a  larger  fraction  of 
human  consciousness   than  ever  before ;   that  there 

16 


182  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL. 

is  more  of  truth,  of  justice,  of  love,  and  faith  in  God 
than  was  ever  in  the  world.  As  we  know  and 
observe  the  natural  laws  of  man,  the  constitution  of 
the  universe,  the  more,  so  will  this  religion  continue 
to  increase,  and  the  results  thereof  appear  in  com- 
mon life,  in  the  individual,  domestic,  social,  national, 
and  universal  human  form. 

Some  men  say  they  cannot  love,  or  even  know, 
God,  except  in  the  form  of  man.  God  as  the  In- 
finite seems  to  them  abstract,  and  they  cannot  lay 
hold  on  Him  until  a  man  fills  their  corporeal  eye 
and  arms,  and  the  affections  cling  thereto  and  are 
blest.  So  they  love  Christ,  —  not  the  Jesus  of  his- 
tory, but  the  Christ  of  the  Christian  mythology,  — 
an  imaginary  being,  an  ideal  incarnation  of  God  in 
man.  Let  them  help  themselves  with  this  crutch  of 
the  fancy,  as  boys  use  sticks  to  leap  a  ditch  or 
spring  a  wall ;  yet  let  them  remember  that  the  real 
historical  incarnation  of  God  is  in  mankind,  not  in 
one  person,  but  all,  and  human  history  is  a  contin- 
ual transfiguration.  As  the  Divine  seems  nearest 
when  human,  and  men  have  loved  to  believe  in 
the  union  of  God  and  man,  so  religion  is  love- 
liest when  it  assumes  the  form  of  common  life, 
—  when  daily  work  is  a  daily  sacrament,  and 
life  itself  a  "psalm  of  gratitude  and  prayer  of  aspi- 
ration. 

It  is  Palm  Sunday  to-day,  and  men  in  churches 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND    THE    SOUL.  183 

remember  what  is  written  of  the  peasant  from 
Galilee  who  rode  into  Jerusalem  amid  multitudes 
of  earnest  men  not  merely  waiting  for  consolation, 
but  going  to  meet  it  half-way,  who  yet  knew  not 
what  they  did,  nor  whom  they  welcomed.  As  that 
man  went  to  the  capital  of  a  nation  which  knew 
him  not,  so  in  our  time  Religion  rides  her  ass-colt 
into  village  and  town,  welcome  to  many  a  weary, 
toiling  heart,  but  ignored  and  pelted  by  the  succes- 
sors of  such  as  "  took  counsel  against  Jesus,  to  put 
him  to  death."  How  little  do  we  know!  But  he 
that  keeps  the  integrity  of  his  own  consciousness, 
and  is  faithful  to  himself  day  by  day,  is  also  faithful 
to  God  for  eternity,  and  helps  to  restore  the  integ- 
rity of  the  world  of  men. 

The  religious  actions  of  old  times  it  is  now  easy 
to  understand.  They  left  their  monuments,  their 
pyramids,  and  temples  which  they  built,  the  memory 
of  the  wars  they  fought  against  their  brothers  in 
the  dear  name  of  Jesus,  or  of  Allah  the  Only.  But 
the  religious  action  of  this  age,  not  in  the  old  form, 
—  it  will  take  the  next  generation  to  understand 
that. 

My  friends,  this  is  a  young  nation,  new  as  yet ; 
you  and  I  can  do  something  to  mould  its  destiny. 
There  are  millions  before  us.  They  will  fulfil  our 
prophecy,  the  truer  the  fairer.  Our  sentiment  of 
religion,  our  ideas  thereof,  if  true,  shall  bless  them 


184  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AND   THE    SOUL. 

in  their  deepest,  dearest  life.  They  will  rejoice  if 
we  shall  break  the  yokes  from  off  their  necks, 
and  rend  asunder  the  old  traditionary  veil  which 
hides  from  them  their  Father's  face.  All  of  your 
piety,  partial  or  total,  shall  go  down  to  gladden  the 
faces  of  your  children,  and  to  bless  their  souls  for 
ever  and  for  ever. 


VI. 

OF  THE  CULTURE  OF  THE  RELIGIOUS  POWERS. 


LET   US   GO   ON    UNTO   PERFECTION. — Heb.  vi.  1. 

The  highest  product  of  a  nation  is  its  men ;  of 
you  and  me  is  our  character,  the  life  which  we 
make  out  of  our  time.  Our  reputation  is  what  we 
come  to  be  thought  of,  our  character  what  we  come 
to  be.  In  this  character  the  most  important  element 
is  the  religious,  for  it  is  to  be  the  guide  and  director 
of  all  the  rest,  the  foundation-element  of  human  ex- 
cellence. 

In  general  our  character  is  the  result  of  three 
factors,  namely,  of  our  Nature,  both  that  which  is 
human,  and  which  we  have  as  men  in  common 
with  all  mankind,  and  that  which  is  individual, 
and  which  we  have  as  Sarah  or  George,  in  dis- 
tinction from  all  men  ;  next,  of  the  Educational 
Forces  about  us ;  and,  finally,  of  our  own  Will, 
which   we  exercise,  and  so  determine  the  use  we 

16* 


186  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

make  of  the  two  other  factors  ;  for  it  is  for  us  to 
determine  whether  we  will  lie  flat  before  natural  in- 
stincts and  educational  forces,  or  modify  their  action 
upon  us. 

What  is  true  in  general  of  all  culture  is  true  in 
special  of  religious  education.  Religious  character 
is  the  result  of  these  three  factors. 

I  suppose  every  earnest  man,  who  knows  what 
religion  is,  desires  to  become  a  religious  man,  to 
do  the  most  of  religious  duty,  have  the  most  of 
religious  rights,  and  enjoy  the  most  of  religious 
welfare ;  to  give  the  most  for  God,  and  receive  the 
most  from  Him.  It  does  not  always  appear  so, 
yet  really  is.  At  the  bottom  of  our  hearts  we  all 
wish  for  that.  We  have  been  misled  by  blind 
guides,  who  did  not  always  mean  to  deceive  us ; 
we  have  often  gone  astray,  led  off  by  our  instinc- 
tive passion  in  youth,  our  voluntary  calculation  in 
manhood,  yet  never  meaning  to  deceive  ourselves. 
But  there  is  none  of  us  who  does  not  desire  to  be 
a  religious  man,  —  at  least,  I  never  met  one  who 
confessed  it,  or  of  whom  I  thought  it  true.  But  of 
course,  they  desire  it  with  various  degrees  of  will. 

Writers  often  divide  men  into  two  classes,  saints 
and  sinners.  I  like  not  the  division.  The  best 
men  are  bad  enough  in  their  own  eyes.  I  hope 
God  is  better  pleased  with  men  than  we  are  with 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  187 

ourselves,  there  are  so  many  things  in  us  all  which 
are  there  against  our  consent,  —  evil  tenants  whom 
we  cannot  get  rid  of  as  yet.  That  smoky  chimney 
of  an  ill-temper  is  a  torment  to  poor  Mr.  Fiery, 
which  he  has  not  had  courage  or  strength  to  re- 
move in  fifty  winters.  To  "  see  ourselves  as  others 
see  us,"  would  often  minister  to  pride  and  conceit ; 
how  many  naughty  things,  actions  and  emotions 
too,  I  know  of  myself,  which  no  calumniator  ever 
casts  in  my  teeth.  Yet  take  the  worst  men  whom 
you  can  find,  —  men  that  rob  on  the  highway  with 
open  violence,  pirates  on  the  sea,  the  more  danger- 
ous thieves  who  devour  widows'  houses  and  plunder 
the  unprotected  in  a  manner  thoroughly  legal,  re- 
spectable, and  "  Christian,"  men  that  steal  from  the 
poor;  —  take  the  tormentors  of  the  Spanish  Inquisi- 
tion, assassins  and  murderers  from  New  York  and 
Naples,  nay,  the  family  of  commissioners  who  in 
Boston  are  willing  to  kidnap  their  fellow-citizens  for 
ten  dollars  a  head,  and  bind  them  and  their  posterity 
for  the  perennial  torture  of  American  slavery ;  — 
even  these  men  would  curl  and  shudder  at  the 
thought  of  being  without  consciousness  of  God  in 
the  world  ;  of  living  without  any  religion,  and  dying 
without  any  religion.  I  know  some  think  religion 
is  rather  uncomfortable  to  live  by,  but  the  worst  of 
men,  as  the  best,  thinks  it  is  a  good  thing  to  die 
with.     Men  repent  of  many  things  on  a  death-bed  ; 


188  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

when   the    storm   blows,   all   the   dead    bodies    are 
stirred  in  the  bosom  of  the  sea,  and  no  one  is  then 
sorry    for    his    efforts    to    become    a   religions    man. 
Many  a  man,  who  lives  in  the  violation  of  his  per- 
sonal, domestic,  social,  national,  and  general  human 
duties,   doubtless  contrives  to   think  he   is   a  relig- 
ious man,  and  if  in  the  name  of  Mammon  he  robs 
the   widow   of  a   pound,  he  gives  a  penny  to  the 
orphan  in  the  name  of  God,  and  thinks  he   serves 
each   without   much    offending    the    other.      Thus, 
kidnappers  in  these  times  are  "exemplary  members" 
of  "  Christian  churches "  where    philanthropy    gets 
roundly  rated  by  the  minister  from  week  to  week, 
and  call  themselves  "  miserable  offenders  "  with  the 
devoutest    air.     This   is   not   all   sham.     The    men 
want  to  keep  on  good  terms  with  God,  and  take 
this  as  the  cheapest,  as  well  as  the  most  respect- 
able   way.       Louis    the    Fifteenth    had    a   private 
chapel  dedicated   to  the   "  Blessed  Virgin "   in   the 
midst  of  his  house    of  debauchery,  where    he    and 
his    poor    victims    were    said    to    be    "  very  devout 
after  the   Church   fashion."     Slave-traders  and   kid- 
nappers take  pains  to  repel  all  calumny  from  their 
"  religions "  reputation,   and   do   not   practise   their 
craft   till  "  divines "    assure    them    it   is    patriarchal 
and  even  "  Christian."     I  mention   these  things  to 
show  that  men  who  are  commonly  thought   emi- 
nently atrocious  in  their  conduct  and  character,  yet 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  189 

would  not  willingly  be  without  religion.  I  shall 
take  it  for  granted  that  all  men  wish  to  acquire  a 
religious  character. 

I  take  it  this  is  the  Idea  of  a  religious  character. 
It  is,  first,  to  be  faithful  to  ourselves,  to  rule  body 
and  spirit,  each  by  the  natural  law  thereof ;  to  use, 
develop,  and  enjoy  all  the  faculties,  each  in  its  just 
proportions,  all  in  harmonious  action,  developed  to 
the  greatest  degree  which  is  possible  under  our  cir- 
cumstances ;  to  have  such  an  abiding  consciousness 
of  God,  that  you  will  have  the  fourfold  form  of 
piety,  so  often  dwelt  on  before,  and  be  inwardly 
blameless,  harmonious,  and  holy. 

It  is,  next,  to  be  faithful  to  your  fellow  men ;  to 
do  for  them  what  is  right,  from  right  motives  and 
for  right  ends  ;  to  love  them  as  yourself;  to  be  use- 
ful to  them  to  the  extent  of  your  power  ;  to  live  in 
such  harmony  with  them  that  you  shall  rejoice  in 
their  joys,  and  all  be  mutually  blessed  with  the  bliss 
of  each  other. 

It  is  also  to  be  faithful  to  God  ;  to  know  of  Him, 
to  have  a  realizing  sense  of  his  Infinite  power,  wis- 
dom, justice,  goodness,  and  holiness,  and  so  a  per- 
fect love  of  God,  a  perfect  trust  in  Him,  a  delight  in 
the  Infinite  Being  of  God ;  to  love  him  intellectually 
in  the  love  of  truth,  morally  as  justice,  affectionally 
as  love,  and  totally  as  the  Infinite  God,  Father  and 


190  CULTURE   OF   THE    RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

Mother  too  of  all  this  world  ;  so  to  love  God  that 
you  have  no  desire  to  transcend  his  law  or  violate 
your  duty  to  yourself,  your  brother,  or  your  God ;  so 
to  love  Him  that  there  shall  be  no  fear  of  God,  none 
for  yourself,  none  for  mankind,  but  a  perfect  confi- 
dence and  an  absolute  love  shall  take  the  place  of 
every  fear.  In  short,  it  is  to  serve  God  by  the  nor- 
mal use,  development,  and  enjoyment  of  every  fac- 
ulty of  the  spirit,  every  limb  of  the  body,  and  every 
mode  of  power  which  we  possess. 

I  think  such  is  the  ideal  of  a  religious  character ; 
that  there  is  no  one  who  would  not  confess  a  desire 
to  be  religious  in  that  sense,  for  it  is  to  be  a  perfect 
man  ;  no  one  who  would  not  make  some  sacrifice 
for  this  end  ;  most  men  would  make  a  great  one, 
some  would  leave  father  and  mother,  and  lay  down 
their  own  lives,  to  secure  it. 

What  are  some  of  the  means  to  this  end,  to  this 
grace  and  this  glory  ?  There  are  four  great  public 
educational  forces,  namely,  the  industrial,  political, 
literary,  and  ecclesiastical  action  of  the  people,  repre- 
sented by  the  Business,  the  State,  the  Press,  and  the 
Church.*     These  have  a  general  influence  in  the  for- 


*  See  Speeches,  Addresses,  and  Occasional  Sermons,  by  Theo- 
dore Parker,  Boston,  1852,  Vol.  I.  p.  407  et  seq.,  where  these  edu- 
cational forces  are  dwelt  on  at  length. 


CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  191 

mation  of  the  character,  and  so  a  special  influence  in 
the  formation  of  the  religious  character  ;  but  as  they 
cannot  be  trusted  for  the  general  work  of  forming 
the  character,  no  more  can  they  for  this  special  func- 
tion. They  are  less  reliable  in  religion  than  in  any 
other  matter  whatever.  By  these  forces  the  whole 
community  is  a  teacher  of  religion  to  all  persons 
born  therein  ;  but  it  can  only  teach  the  mode  and 
degree  of  religion  it  has  itself  learned  and  possessed, 
not  that  which  it  has  not  learned  and  does  not  pos- 
sess. Not  only  can  it  not  teach  a  religion  higher 
than  its  own,  but  it  hinders  you  in  your  attempt  to 
learn  a  new  and  better  mode  of  religion. 

For  several  things  we  may  trust  these  public  edu- 
cational forces  in  religion. 

They  teach  you  in  the  general  popular  fear  of 
God,  and  a  certain  outward  reverence  which  comes 
of  that ;  the  popular  sacraments  of  our  time,  —  to 
give  your  bodily  presence  in  a  meeting-house,  per- 
haps to  join  a  sectarian  church,  and  profess  great 
reverence  for  the  Bible. 

They  will  teach  you  the  popular  part  of  your 
practical  duties,  —  personal,  domestic,  social,  ecclesi- 
astical, and  political.  But  of  course  they  can  teach 
you  only  the  popular  part. 

They  may  be  relied  on  to  teach  the  majority  of 
men  certain  great  truths,  which  are  the  common 
property  of  Christendom,  such  as  the  existence  of  a 


192  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

God,  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  certainty  of  a 
kind  of  retribution,  and  the  like.  Then  each  sect 
has  certain  truths  of  its  own  which  it  will  commonly 
teach.  Thus  the  Catholics  will  learn  to  reverence 
the  Roman  Church  ;  the  Protestants  to  venerate  the 
Bible  ;  the  Calvinists  to  believe  in  the  Trinity  ;  and 
the  Unitarians  in  the  Oneness  of  God.  All  the 
sects  will  teach  a  certain  decorum,  the  observance  of 
Sunday,  —  to  honor  the  popular  virtues,  to  shun  the 
unpopular  vices. 

The  educational  forces  tend  to  produce  this  effect. 
You  send  your  boys  to  the  public  schools  of  Boston, 
they  learn  the  disciplines  taught  there,  —  to  read, 
write,  and  calculate.  What  is  not  taught  they  do 
not  learn.  In  Saxony  the  children  learn  German ; 
Dutch,  in  Holland.  In  the  same  way  the  majority 
of  men  learn  the  common  religion  of  the  community, 
and  profess  it  practically  in  their  markets,  their 
houses,  their  halls  of  legislature,  their  courts,  and  their 
jails.  The  commercial  newspapers,  the  proceedings 
of  Congress,  the  speeches  of  public  men,  —  these  are 
a  part  of  the  national  profession  of  faith,  and  show 
what  is  the  actual  object  of  worship,  and  what  the 
practical  creed  of  the  nation. 

But  for  any  eminence  of  religion  you  must  look 
elsewhere  ;  for  any  excellence  of  the  sentiment,  any 
superiority  of  the  idea,  any  newness  in  the  form  of 
religion.     These  educational  forces  will   teach  you 


CULTUKE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  193 

evanescent  principles  which  seem  to  suit  your  pres- 
ent and  partial  interests,  not  eternal  principles,  which 
really  suit  your  universal  and  everlasting  interests. 
In  Jerusalem  these  forces  might  educate  a  Gamaliel, 
—  never  a  Jesus. 

Charles  River  flows  two  miles  an  hour ;  chips  and 
straws  on  its  surface,  therefore,  if  there  be  no  wind, 
will  float  with  that  velocity.  But  if  a  man  in  a 
boat  wishes  to  go  ten  miles  an  hour,  he  must  row 
eight  miles  more  than  the  stream  will  carry  him. 
So  we  are  all  in  the  dull  current  of  the  popular  re- 
ligion, and  may  trust  it  to  drift  us  as  fast  as  it  flows 
itself;  we  may  rise  with  its  flood,  and  be  stranded 
and  left  dry  when  it  ebbs  out  before  some  popular 
wickedness  which  blows  from  off  the  shore.  The 
religious  educational  forces  of  a  commercial  town, — 
you  see  in  the  newspapers  what  religion  they  will 
teach  you,  — in  the  streets  what  men  they  would 
make. 

These  educational  forces  tend  to  make  average 
Christians,  and  their  influence  is  of  great  value  to 
the  community,  —  like  the  discipline  of  a  camp. 
But  to  be  eminent  religious  men,  you  must  depend 
on  very  different  helps.  Let  us  look  at  some  of 
them. 

There  are  religious  men  who,  by  the  religious 
genius  they  were  born  to,  and  the  religious  use  they 

17 


194  CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

have  made  thereof,  have  risen  far  above  the  average 
of  Christians.  Such  men  are  the  first  help ;  and  a 
most  important  one  they  are.  It  is  a  fortunate 
thing  when  such  an  one  stands  in  a  church  whither 
the  public  current  drives  in  the  people,  and  to  the 
strength  of  his  nature  adds  the  strength  of  position. 
But  it  is  not  often  that  such  a  man  stands  in  a 
pulpit.  The  common  ecclesiastical  training  tends  to 
produce  dull  and  ordinary  men,  with  little  individual 
life,  little  zeal,  and  only  the  inspiration  of  a  sect. 
However,  if  a  man  of  religious  genius,  by  some 
human  accident,  gets  into  a  pulpit,  he  is  in  great 
danger  of  preaching  himself  out  of  it.  Still  there 
are  such  men,  a  few  of  them,  stationed  along  the 
line  of  the  human,  march  ;  cities  set  on  a  hill,  which 
no  cloud  of  obloquy  can  wholly  hide  from  sight. 
Nay,  they  are  great  beacons  on  the  shore  of  the 
world,  —  light-houses  on  the  headlands  of  the  coast, 
sending  their  guidance  far  out  to  sea,  to  warn  the 
mariner  of  his  whereabouts,  and  welcome  him  to 
port  and  peace.  Street-lamps  there  must  be  for  the 
thoroughfares  of  the  town,  shop-lights  also  for  the 
grocer  and  the  apothecary ;  nay,  hand-lights  which 
are  made  to  be  carried  from  room  to  room  and  set 
down  anywhere,  and  numerous  they  will  ever  be, 
each  having  its  own  function.  This  arrangement 
takes  place  in  the  ecclesiastical  as  well  as  in  munici- 
pal affairs,  for  each  sect  has  its  street-lamps  and  its 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  195 

shop-lights  to  guide  men  to  its  particular  huckstery 
of  salvation,  and  little  hand-lights  to  take  into  cor- 
ners where  the  salesmen  and  the  showmen  are  all 
ready  with  their  wares.  But  the  great  Faros  of 
Genoa,  and  Eddystone  light-houses  of  religion  must 
always  be  few  and  far  between ;  the  world  is  not 
yet  rich  enough  in  spirit  to  afford  many  of  this  sort. 

Yet  even  in  these  men  you  seldom  find  the  whole- 
ness of  religion.  One  has  the  sentiments  thereof; 
he  will  kindle  your  religious  feelings,  your  reverence, 
your  devotion,  your  trust,  and  your  love  of  God. 

Another  has  only  its  ideas  ;  new  thoughts  about 
religion,  new  truths,  which  he  presents  to  the  minds 
of  men.  Analytic,  he  destroys  the  ancient  errors  of 
theological  systems  ;  thrashes  the  creeds  of  the 
churches  with  the  stout  flail  of  philosophy,  and  sifts 
them  as  wheat,  winnowing  with  a  rough  wind,  great 
clouds  of  chaff  blow  off  before  his  mighty  vans. 
Synthetic,  he  takes  the  old  truth  which  stood  the 
critical  thrashing  and  is  now  winnowed  clean  ;  he 
joins  therewith  new  truth  shot  down  from  God,  and 
welcomed  into  loving  arms;  and  out  of  his  large 
storehouse  this  scribe,  well  instructed  unto  the  king- 
dom of  heaven,  brings  forth  things  new  and  old,  to 
serve  as  bread  for  the  living,  and  seed-corn  to  gen- 
erations not  born  as  yet. 

A  third,  with  no  eminence  of  feelings  commonly 
called  religious,  —  none  of  theological  ideas,  —  will 


196  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

have  yet  an  eminence  of  justice,  and  teach  personal 
and  social  morality  as  no  other  man.  He  may  turn 
to  a  single  speciality  of  morals,  and  demand  tem- 
perance, chastity,  the  reform  of  penal  law,  the  recon- 
struction of  society,  the  elevation  of  woman,  and 
the  education  of  the  whole  mass  of  men ;  or  he  may 
turn  to  general  philanthropy,  the  universality  of 
moral  excellence,  —  it  all  comes  from  the  same  root, 
and  with  grateful  welcome  should  be  received. 

Each  of  these  teachers  will  do  real  service  to  your 
souls,  —  quickening  the  feelings,  imparting  ideas, 
and  organizing  the  results  of  religion  in  moral  acts. 
I  know  a  great  outcry  has  been  made  in  all  the 
churches  against  moral  reformers,  against  men  who 
would  apply  pure  religion  to  common  life,  in  the 
special  or  the  universal  form.  You  all  know  what 
clamor  is  always  raised  against  a  man  who  would 
abolish  a  vice  from  human  society,  or  establish  a 
new  virtue.  Every  wolf  is  interested  in  the  wilder- 
ness, and  hates  the  axe  and  the  plough  of  the  settler, 
and  would  devour  his  child  if  he  dared.  So  every 
nuisance  in  society  has  its  supporters,  whose  property 
is  invested  therein.  Paul  found  it  so  at  Ephesus, 
Telemachus  at  Rome,  and  Garrison  in  America.  I 
doubt  not  the  men  of  Ephesus  thought  religion 
good  in  all  matters  except  the  making  of  silver 
shrines  for  Diana ;  "  there  it  makes  men  mad." 
Men    cry   out    against   the   advance    of    morality  : 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  197 

"Preach  us  religion;  preach  us  Christianity,  Christ 
and    him  crucified,  and    not   this    infidel    matter  of 
ending  particular   sins,   and   abounding   in    special 
virtues.     Preach  us  the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  sin, 
'original  sin'  '  which  brought  death  into  the  world 
and  all  our  woe  ; '  preach  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and 
the  like  of  that,  and   let   alone   the   actual  sins  of 
society,  of  the  shop  and  the  church  and  the  State;  — 
be  silent   about  drunkenness    and   lust,  about  war, 
slavery,  and   the  thousand  forms  of   avarice  which 
we  rejoice  in.     Is  it  not  enough,  O  Preacher,  that 
we  give  you  of  our  purse  and  our  corporeal  presence, 
that  we  weekly  confess  ourselves  '  miserable  offend- 
ers,' with  '  no  health  in  us,'  and  fast,  perhaps,  twice 
in  our  lives,  but  you  must  convict  us  of  being  idola- 
ters also ;  yea,  drunkards,  gluttons,  impure  in  youth 
and  avaricious  in  manhood,  —  once   a  Voluptuary, 
and  now  a  Hunker !     Go  to  now,  and  preach  us  the 
blessedness  of  the  righteous,  Christ  and  him  cruci- 
fied ! "     When   money  speaks,   the    Church   obeys, 
and  the  pulpit  preaches  for  doctrine  the  command- 
ments of  the  pews. 

But  it  is  these  very  moral  reformers,  who,  in  our 
time,  have  done  more  than  all  others  to  promote  the 
feeling  of  piety  which  the  churches  profess  so  much 
to  covet.  The  new  ground  of  religion  which  the 
churches  occupy  is  always  won  for  them  by  men 
whom  the  churches  hated.     In  the  last  thirty  years 

17* 


198  CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS    POWERS. 

these  "  pestilent  moral  reformers  "  of  New  England, 
I  think,  have  done  more  to  promote  love  of  God, 
and  faith  in  Him,  than  all  the  other  preachers  of  all 
the  churches.  Justice  is  a  part  of  piety  ;  and  such 
is  the  instinctive  love  of  wholeness  in  man,  that  all 
attempts  to  promote  justice  amongst  men  lead  ulti- 
mately to  the  love  of  God  as  God. 

In  every  community  you  will  find  a  man  who 
thus  represents  some  portion  of  religion,  —  often, 
perhaps,  thinking  that  part  is  the  whole,  because  it 
is  all  that  he  knows ;  here  and  there  we  find  such  an 
one  in  the  pulpit.  But  now  and  then  there  comes  a 
man  who  unites  these  three  functions  of  piety  into 
one  great  glory  of  religion  ;  is  eminent  in  feelings, 
ideas,  and  actions  not  the  less.  Each  of  those  par- 
tial men  may  help  us  much,  teaching  his  doctrine, 
kindling  our  feelings,  giving  example  of  his  deed, 
and  laying  out  religious  work  for  us,  spreading  his 
pattern  before  society.  Each  of  these  may  help  us 
to  a  partial  improvement.  But  when  a  man  comes 
who  unites  them  all,  he  will  give  us  a  new  start,  an 
inspiration  which  no  other  man  can  give ;  not  par- 
tial, but  total. 

There  are  always  some  such  men  in  the  world ; 
the  seed  of  the  prophets  never  dies  out.  It  comes 
up  in  Israel  and  in  Attica  ;  here  a  prophet  teaching 
truth  as  divine  inspiration,  there  a  philosopher 
with  his  human  discovery.     So  the  Herb  of  Grace 


CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  199 

springs  up  in  corners  where  once  old  houses 
stood,  or  wherever  the  winds  have  borne  the  seed ; 
and,  cropped  by  the  oxen,  and  trodden  with  their 
feet,  it  grows  ever  fresh  and  ever  new.  When 
Scribes  and  Pharisees  become  idolaters  at  Jerusa- 
lem, and  the  sheep  without  a  shepherd 

"  Look  up  and  are  not  fed, 
But,  swollen  with  wind  and  the  rank  mist  they  draw, 
Rot  inwardly  and  foul  contagion  spread," 

the  spirit  of  God  comes  newly  down  on  some  car- 
penter's son  at  Nazareth,  whose  lightning  terrifies 
the  non-conducting  Scribe  ;  the  new  encounters  the 
perishable  old,  and  all  heaven  rings  with  the  thunder 
of  the  collision.  Now  and  then  such  a  person 
comes  to  stand  betwixt  the  living  and  the  dead. 
"  Bury  that,"  quoth  he,  "  it  is  hopelessly  dead,  past 
all  resurrection.  This  must  be  healed,  tended,  and 
made  whole."  He  is  a  physician  to  churches  sick  of 
sin,  as  well  as  with  it ;  burying  the  dead,  he  heals 
also  the  sick,  and  quickens  the  sound  into  new  and 
healthy  life.  But  the  owners  of  swine  that  perish 
must  needs  cry  out  at  the  loss. 

Yet  such  a  man  is  not  understood  in  his  own 
generation.  A  man  with  a  single  eminent  faculty  is 
soon  seen  through  and  comprehended.  This  man  is 
good  for  nothing  but  practice  ;  that,  only  for  thought. 
One  is  a  sentimentalist;  another,  a  traveller.     But 


200  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

when  a  genius  comes  eminent  in  many  and  most 
heterogeneous  faculties,  men  do  not  see  through  nor 
comprehend  him  in  a  short  time.  If  he  has  in  him- 
self all  the  excellence  of  all  the  men  in  the  metropo- 
lis, —  why,  it  will  take  many  a  great  city  to  compre- 
hend him.  The  young  maiden  in  the  story,  for  the 
first  time  hearing  her  clerical  lover  preach,  wondered 
that  those  lips  could  pray  as  sweetly  as  they  kissed, 
but  could  not  comprehend  the  twofold  sacrament, 
the  mystery  of  this  double  function  of  a  single 
mouth.  Anybody  can  see  that  corn  grows  in  this 
field,  and  kale  in  that ;  the  roughest  clown  knows 
this,  but  it  takes  a  great  many  wise  men  to  describe 
the  botany  of  a  whole  continent.  So  is  it  ever. 
Here  is  a  religious  man,  —  writing  on  purely  inter- 
nal emotions  of  piety,  of  love  of  God,  of  faith  in 
Him,  of  rest  for  the  soul,  the  foretaste  of  heaven. 
He  penetrates  the  deeps  of  religious  joy,  its  peace 
enters  his  soul,  his  morning  prayer  is  a  psalm  deeper 
than  David's,  with  a  beauty  more  various  than  the 
poetic  wreath  which  the  shepherd-king  gathered 
from  the  hill-sides  of  Jordan  or  the  gardens  of 
Mount  Zion.  Straightway  men  say  :  "  This  man  is 
a  sentimentalist ;  he  is  a  mystic,  all  contemplation, 
all  feeling, —  poetical,  dreamy,  —  his  light  is  moon- 
shine." But  erelong  our  sentimentalist  writes  of 
philosophy,  and  his  keen  eye  sees  mines  of  wisdom 
not  quarried  heretofore,  and  he  brings  a  power  of 


CULTURE   OF  THE  RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  201 

unsunned  gold  to  light.  Other  men  say :  "  O,  this 
man  is  nothing  but  a  philosopher,  a  mere  thinker,  a 
mighty  head,  but  with  no  more  heart  than  Chim- 
borazo  or  Thomas  Hobbes."  Yet  presently  some 
great  sin  breaks  out,  and  rolls  its  desolating  flood 
over  the  land,  uprooting  field  and  town,  and  our 
philosopher  goes  out  to  resist  the  ruin.  He  de- 
nounces the  evil,  attacks  the  institution  which  thus 
deceives  men.  Straightway  men  call  out :  "  Icono- 
clast !  Boanerges  !  John  Knox !  destroyer  ! "  and  the 
like.  Alas  me !  men  do  not  know  that  the  same 
sun  gathers  the  dews  which  water  the  forget-me-not, 
drooping  at  noonday,  and  drives  through  the  sky 
the  irresistible  storm  that  shatters  the  forest  in  its 
thunderous  march,  and  piles  the  ruins  of  a  moun- 
tain in  an  Alpine  avalanche.  The  same  soul  which 
thundered  its  forked  lightning  on  Scribes  and  Phari- 
sees, hypocrites,  poured  out  poetic  parables  from 
his  golden  urn,  spreading  forth  the  sunshine  of  the 
beatitudes  upon  friend  and  foe,  and,  half  in  heaven, 
breathed  language  wholly  thence,  —  "  Father,  for- 
give them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 

It  is  a  great  thing  once  in  our  days  to  meet  with  a 
man  of  religious  genius  largely  developed  into  lovely 
life.  He  stirs  the  feelings  infinite  within  us,  and 
we  go  off  quite  other  than  we  came.  He  has  not 
put  his  soul  into  our  bosom  ;  he  has  done  better,  — 
has  waked  our  soul  in  our  own  bosom.     Men  may 


202  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

go  leagues  long  to  listen  to  such  a  man,  and  come 
back  well  paid.  He  gives  us  seeds  of  future  life 
for  our  little  garden.  So  the  husbandman  journeys 
far  to  get  a  new  root  or  a  new  seed,  to  fill  his 
ground  with  beauty  or  his  home  with  bread.  After 
we  have  listened  to  the  life  of  such  a  man,  the 
world  does  not  seem  so  low,  nor  man  so  mean ; 
heaven  looks  nearer,  yet  higher  too ;  humanity  is 
more  rich ;  if  wrong  appear  yet  more  shameful,  the 
wrongdoer  is  not  so  hopeless.  After  that  I  can 
endure  trouble ;  my  constant  cross  is  not  so  heavy ; 
the  unwonted  is  less  difficult  to  bear.  Tears  are  not 
so  scalding  to  an  eye  which  has  looked  through 
them  into  the  serene  face  of  a  great-souled  man. 
Men  seem  friendlier,  and  God  is  exceeding  dear. 
The  magistrates  of  Jerusalem  marvelled  at  the  con- 
duct of  Peter  and  John,  heedful  of  the  higher  law  of 
God,  spite  of  bonds  and  imprisonment  and  politi- 
cians ;  but  they  "  took  knowledge  of  them,  that  they 
had  been  with  Jesus,"  and  the  marvel  had  its  ex- 
planation. What  a  dull,  stupid  thing  is  a  candle ! 
Touch  it  with  fire,  and  then  look !  "We  are  all  of  us 
capable  of  being  lit  when  some  Prometheus  comes 
down  with  the  spark  of  God  in  his  right  hand.  The 
word  of  Jesus  touched  the  dull  fishermen  of  Galilee, 
and  they  flamed  into  martyrs  and  apostles. 

It  is  a  great  thing  to  meet  such  a  man   once  in 
your  lifetime,  to  be  cheered  and  comforted  in  your 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  203 

sad  wayfaring,  and  rilled  with  new  vigor  and  new 
faith  in  the  Father  of  all.  After  that  we  thank  God, 
and  take  courage  and  fare  on  our  happier  way.  So 
a  company  of  pilgrims  journeying  in  the  wilderness, 
dry,  foot-sore,  and  hot,  the  water  all  spent  in  their 
goat-skins,  their  camels  weary  and  sick,  come  to  a 
grove  of  twelve  palm-trees,  and  an  unexpected 
spring  of  pure  water  wells  up  in  the  desert. 
Strightway  their  weariness  is  all  forgot,  their  limp- 
ing camels  have  become  whole  once  more.  Staying 
their  thirst,  they  fill  their  bottles  also  with  the  cool 
refreshment,  rest  in  the  shadow  from  the  noonday's 
heat,  and  then  with  freshened  life,  the  soreness  gone 
from  every  bone,  pursue  their  noiseless  and  their 
happy  march.  Even  so,  says  the  Old  Testament 
story,  God  sent  his  angel  down  in  the  wilderness  to 
feed  Elias  with  the  bread  of  heaven,  and  in  the 
strength  thereof  the  prophet  went  his  forty  days, 
nor  hungered  not.  I  suppose  some  of  us  have  had 
this  experience,  and  in  our  time  of  bewilderment, 
of  scorching  desolation,  and  of  sorrow,  have  come 
upon  our  well  of  water  and  twelve  palm-trees  in 
the  sand,  and  so  have  marched  all  joyful  through 
the  wilderness.  Elias  left  all  the  angels  of  God  for 
you  and  me,  —  the  friendlier  for  his  acquaintance. 

There  is  a  continual  need  of  men  of  this  stamp. 
We  live  in  the  midst  of  religious  machinery. 
Many   mechanics   at   piety,  often  only   apprentices 


204  CULTURE   OF  THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

and  slow  to  learn,  are  turning  the  various  ecclesiasti- 
cal mills,  and  the  creak  of  the  motion  is  thought 
"the  voice  of  God."  You  put  into  the  hopper  a 
crowd  of  persons,  young  and  old,  and  soon  they 
are  ground  out  into  the  common  run  of  Chris- 
tians, sacked  up,  and  stored  away  for  safe-keeping 
in  the  appropriate  bins  of  the  great  ecclesiastical 
establishment,  and  labelled  with  their  party  names. 
You  look  about  in  what  is  dryly  called  "  the  relig- 
ious world."  What  a  mass  of  machinery  is  there, 
of  dead  timber,  not  green  trees!  what  a  jar  and 
discord  of  iron  clattering  upon  iron !  Action  is  of 
machinery,  not  of  life,  and  it  is  green  new  life  that 
you  want.  So  men  grow  dull  in  their  churches. 
What  a  weariness  is  an  ordinary  meeting  on  one 
of  the  fifty-two  ordinary  Sundays  of  the  year! 
What  a  dreary  thing  is  an  ordinary  sermon  of  an 
ordinary  minister !  He  does  not  wish  to  preach 
it;  the  audience  does  not  wish  to  hear  it.  So 
he  makes  a  feint  of  preaching,  they  a  feint  of  hear- 
ing him  preach.  But  he  preaches  not;  they  hear 
not.  He  is  dull  as  the  cushion  he  beats,  they  as  the 
cushions  they  cover.  A  body  of  men  met  in  a 
church  for  nothing,  and  about  nothing,  and  to  hear 
nobody,  is  to  me  a  ghastly  spectacle.  Did  you  ever 
see  cattle  in  a  cold  day  in  the  country  crowd  to- 
gether in  an  enclosure,  the  ground  frozen  under  their 
feet,  and  no  hay  spread  upon  it, —  huddling  together 


CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  205 

for  warmth,  hungry,  but  inactive,  because  penned 
up,  and  waiting  with  the  heavy,  slumberous  patience 
of  oxen  till  some  man  should  come  and  shake  down 
to  them  a  truss  of  clean  bright  hay,  still  redolent  of 
clover  and  honeysuckle?  That  is  a  cheerful  sight; 
and  when  the  farmer  comes  and  hews  their  winter 
food  out  of  the  stack,  what  life  is  in  these  slumber- 
ous oxen !  their  venerable  eyes  are  full  of  light, 
because  they  see  their  food.  Ah  me !  how  many  a 
herd  of  men  is  stall-hungered  in  the  churches,  not 
getting  even  the  hay  of  religion,  only  a  little  chaff 
swept  off  from  old  thrashing-floors  whence  the  corn 
which  great  men  beat  out  of  its  husk  was  long  since 
gathered  up  to  feed  and  bless  mankind !  Churches 
are  built  of  stone.  I  have  often  thought  pulpits 
should  be  cushioned  with  husks. 

Of  all  melancholy  social  sights  that  one  sees,  few 
are  so  sad  as  a  body  of  men  got  together  to  convert 
mankind  to  sectarianism  by  ecclesiastical  machinery, 
—  men  dead  as  timber,  cut  down,  dead  and  dry ! 
Out  of  wire,  muslin,  thread,  starch,  gum,  and  sundry 
chemicals,  French  milliners  make  by  dozens  what 
they  call  roses,  lilies  of  the  valley,  forget-me-nots, 
and  the  like.  Scentless  and  seedless  abortions  are 
they,  and  no  more.  What  a  difference  between  the 
flower  the  lover  gathers  by  the  brookside  for  his 
maiden's  breast,  and  the  thing  which  the  milliner 
makes  with  her  scissors  ;  between  the  forget-me-not 

18 


206  CULTURE    OF   THE  RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

of  the  meadow  and  the  forget-me-not  of  the  shop! 
Such  an  odds  is  there  betwixt  religious  men  and 
Christians  manufactured  in  a  mill. 

In  the  factories  of  England  you  find  men  busy  all 
their  life  in  making  each  the  twenty-sixth  part  of  a 
watch.  They  can  do  nothing  else,  and  become 
almost  as  much  machines  as  the  grindstone  which 
sharpens  their  drill,  or  the  rammage  which  carries 
their  file.  Much  of  our  ecclesiastical  machinery 
tends  to  make  men  into  mere  fixtures  in  a  mill.  So 
there  must  be  a  continual  accession  of  new  religious 
life  from  without  into  the  churches  to  keep  Chris- 
tians living.  Men  of  religious  genius  it  is  who  bring 
it  in.  Without  them  "  religion  "  in  cities  would  be- 
come mere  traditional  theology,  and  "  life  in  God  " 
would  be  sitting  in  a  meeting-house,  and  the  bap- 
tism in  water  from  an  aqueduct  taken  for  the  com- 
munion of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Blessed  be  God  that 
there  are  such  men  not  smothered  in  the  surplice  of 
the  priest,  but  still  alive  in  God,  and  God  alive  in 
them! 

In  old  towns  all  the  water  that  fills  the  wells  is 
dead  water, —  dead  and  dirty  too;  the  rinsings  of 
the  streets,  the  soakings  of  stables,  the  slop  of  mar- 
kets, the  wash  and  ofTscouring  of  the  town ;  even  the 
filterings  of  the  graveyard  settle  therein,  and  the 
child  is  fed  with  its  grandsire's  bones.  Men  would 
perish  if  left  alone,  dying  of  their  drink.     So,  far  off 


CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  207 

in  the  hills,  above  the  level  of  the  town,  they  seek 
some  mountain  lake,  and  furnish  a  pathway  that  its 
crystal  beauty  may  come  to  town.  There  the  living 
water  leaps  up  in  public  fountains,  it  washes  the 
streets,  it  satisfies  the  blameless  cattle,  it  runs  into 
every  house  to  cleanse  and  purify  and  bless,  and  men 
are  glad  as  the  Hebrews  when  Moses  smote  the 
fabled  rock.  So  comes  religious  genius  unto  men  : 
some  mountain  of  a  man  stands  up  tall,  and  all  win- 
ter long  takes  the  snows  of  heaven  on  his  shoulders, 
all  summer  through  receives  the  cold  rain  into  his 
bosom ;  both  become  springs  of  living  water  at  his 
feet.  Then  the  proprietors  of  fetid  wells  and  subter- 
ranean tanks,  which  they  call  "  Bethesda,"  though 
often  troubled  by  other  than  angels,  and  whence  they 
retail  their  "  salvation  "  a  pennyworth  at  a  time,  — 
they  cry  out  with  sneer  and  scoff  and  scorn  against 
our  new-born  saint.  "  Shall  Christ  come  out  of  Gal- 
ilee ? "  quoth  they.  "  Art  thou  greater  than  our 
father  Jacob,  who  gave  us  this  well,  and  drank  there- 
of himself,  and  his  children,  and  his  cattle  ?  Who 
are  you  ? "  Thus,  the  man  of  forms  has  ever  his 
calumny  against  the  man  of  God. 

Religious  teachers  there  will  ever  be,  —  a  few  or- 
ganizers, many  an  administrator  of  organizations; 
but  inventors  in  religion  are  always  few.  These  are 
the  greatest  external  helps  to  the  manhood  of  relig- 
ion.    All  great  teaching  is  the  teacher's  inspiration  ; 


208  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

this  is  truer  in  religion  than  in  aught  besides,  for  here 
all  is  life,  and  nothing  a  trick  of  mechanism.  Let 
us  take  all  the  good  that  we  can  gain  from  the  rare 
men  of  religious  genius,  but  never  submit  and  make 
even  them  our  lords ;  teachers  ever,  let  them  never 
be  masters. 

Then  there  are  religious  books,  such  as  waken  the 
soul  by  their  direct  action, —  stirring  us  to  piety, 
stirring  us  to  morality,  —  books  in  which  men  of 
great  religious  growth  have  garnered  up  the  expe- 
rience of  their  life.  Some  of  them  are  total,  —  for  all 
religion;  some  partial,  —  for  the  several  specialities 
thereof.  These  books  are  sacks  of  corn  carried  from 
land  to  land,  to  be  sown,  and  bear  manifold  their 
golden  fruit.  There  are  not  many  such  in  the  world. 
There  are  few  masterpieces  of  poetry  in  all  the 
earth ;  a  boy's  school-bag  would  hold  them  all,  from 
Greece  and  Rome,  Italy,  Germany,  England.  The 
masterpieces  of  piety  in  literature  are  the  rarest  of 
all.  In  a  mineralogist's  cabinet  what  bushels  there 
are  of  quartz,  mica,  hornblende,  slate,  and  coal ;  and 
common  minerals  by  heaps ;  reptiles  and  fishes  done 
in  stone;  only  here  and  there  an  emerald;  and  dia- 
monds are  exceeding  rare.  So  is  it  with  gems  of 
holy  thought.  Some  psalms  are  there  from  the 
Bible,  though  seldom  a  whole  one  that  is  true  to  the 
soul  of  man,  —  now  and  then  an  oracle  from  a  He- 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  209 

brew  prophet,  full  of  faith  in  God,  a  warrior  of  piety, 
—  which  keep  their  place  in  the  cabinet  of  religion, 
though  two  or  three  thousand  years  have  passed  by 
since  their  authors  ceased  to  be  mortal.  But  the 
most  quickening  of  all  religious  literature  is  still 
found  in  the  first  three  Gospels  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, —  in  those  dear  beatitudes,  in  occasional  flow- 
ers of  religion,  —  parable  and  speech.  The  beati- 
tudes will  outlast  the  pyramids.  Yet  the  New  Tes- 
tament and  its  choicest  texts  must  be  read  with  the 
caution  of  a  free-born  man.  Even  in  the  words  of 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  much  is  merely  Hebrew,  —  mark- 
ed with  the  limitations  of  the  nation  and  the  man. 

Other  religious  books  there  are  precious  to  the 
heart  of  man.  Some  of  the  works  of  Augustine,  of 
Thomas  a  Kempis,  of  Fenelon,  of  Jeremy  Taylor,  of 
John  Bunyan,  of  William  Law,  have  proved  exceed- 
ing dear  to  pious  men  throughout  the  Christian 
world.  In  a  much  narrower  circle  of  readers, 
Buckminster,  Channing,  and  Ware  have  com- 
forted the  souls  of  men.  Herbert  and  Watts 
have  here  and  there  a  "  gem  of  purest  ray  serene," 
and  now  and  then  a  flower  blooms  into  beauty 
in  the  desert  air  of  liturgies,  breviaries,  and  collec- 
tions of  hymns.  The  religious  influence  of  Words- 
worth's poetry  has  been  truly  great.  With  no 
large  poetic  genius,  often  hemmed  in  by  the  nar- 
rowness  of  his   traditionary  creed  and  the   puerile 

18* 


210  CULTURE    OF   THE    RELIGIOUS    POWERS. 

littleness  of  men  abont  him,  he  had  yet  an  exceed- 
ing love  of  God,  which  ran  over  into  love  of  men, 
and  beautified  his  every  day ;  and  many  a  poor 
girl,  many  a  sad  boy,  has  been  cheered  and  lifted 
up  in  soul  and  sense  by  the  brave  piety  in  his 
sonnets  and  in  his  lyric  sweeps  of  lofty  song.  A 
writer  of  our  own  time,  with  large  genius  and  un- 
faltering piety,  adorning  a  little  village  of  New 
England  with  his  fragrant  life,  has  sent  a  great 
religious  influence  io  many  a  house  in  field  and 
town,  and  youths  and  maids  rejoice  in  his  electric 
touch.  I  will  leave  it  to  posterity  to  name  his 
name,  —  the  most  original,  as  well  as  religious,  of 
American  writers. 

But  the  great  vice  of  what  is  called  "religious 
literature"  is  this.  It  is  the  work  of  narrow- 
minded  men,  sectarians,  and  often  bigots,  who 
cannot  see  beyond  their  own  little  partisan  chapel ; 
men  who  know  little  of  any  thing,  less  of  man,  and 
least  of  all  of  real  religion.  What  criticism  do 
such  men  make  on  noble  men?  The  criticism 
of  an  oyster  on  a  thrush  ;  nay,  sometimes,  of  a 
toad  "  ugly  and  venomous,"  with  no  "jewel  in 
its  head,"  upon  a  nightingale.  Literature  of  that 
character  is  a  curse.  In  the  name  of  God  it  mis- 
leads common  men  from  religion,  and  it  makes 
powerful  men  hate  religion  itself;  at  least  hate 
its  name.     It  bows  weak  men '  down  till  they  trem- 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  211 

ble  and  fear  all  their  mortal  life.  I  lack  words  to 
express  my  detestation  of  this  trash,  —  concocted 
of  sectarian  cant  and  superstitious  fear.  I  trem- 
ble when  I  think  of  the  darkness  it  spreads  over 
human  life,  of  the  disease  which  it  inoculates  man- 
kind withal,  and  the  craven  dread  it  writes  out  upon 
the  face  of  its  worshippers.  Look  at  the  history  of 
the  Athanasian  Creed  and  the  Westminster  Cate- 
chism. They  have  done  more,  it  seems  to  me,  to 
retard  the  religious  development  of  Christendom, 
than  all  the  ribald  wrorks  of  confessed  infidels,  from 
Lucian,  the  king  of  scoffers,  down  to  our  own  days. 
The  American  Tract  Society,  with  the  best  inten- 
tions in  the  world,  it  seems  to  me  is  doing  more 
damage  to  the  nation  than  all  the  sellers  of  intoxi- 
cating drink  and  all  the  prostitutes  in  the  land  ! 

Some  books  on  religious  matters  are  the  work 
of  able  men,  men  well  disciplined,  but  yet  con- 
taminated with  false  views  of  God,  of  man,  and  of 
the  relation  between  the  two;  with  false  views  of 
life,  of  death,  and  of  the  next,  eternal  world.  Such 
men  w7ere  Baxter  and  Edwards  and  many  more, 
—  Protestant  and  Catholic,  Christian,  Hebrew, 
Buddhist,  and  Mahometan.  All  these  books  should 
be  read  with  caution  and  distrust.  Still  a  wise 
man,  with  a  religious  spirit,  in  the  religious  liter- 
ature of  the  world,  from  Confucius  to  Emerson, 
may  find  much  to  help  his  growth. 


212  CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

After  the  attainment  of  manlier  years  in  piety, 
other  works,  not  intentionally  religious,  will  help  a 
man  greatly.  Books  of  science,  which  show  the 
thought  of  God  writ  in  the  world  of  matter ;  books 
of  history,  which  reveal  the  same  mind  in  the  de- 
velopment of  the  human  race,  slow,  but  as  constant 
and  as  normal  as  the  growth  of  a  cedar  or  the  dis- 
closing of  an  egg)  Newton  and  Laplace,  Descartes 
and  Kant,  indirectly,  through  their  science,  stir  de- 
vout souls  to  deeper  devotion.  A  thoughtful  man 
dissolves  the  matter  of  the  universe,  leaving  only 
its  forces  ;  dissolves  away  the  phenomena  of  human 
history,  leaving  only  immortal  spirit;  he  studies  the 
law,  the  mode  of  action,  of  these  forces,  and  this 
spirit,  which  make  up  the  material  and  the  human 
world ;  and  I  see  not  how  he  can  fail  to  be  filled 
with  reverence,  with  trust,  with  boundless  love  of 
the  Infinite  God  who  devised  these  laws  of  mat- 
ter and  of  mind,  and  thereby  bears  up  this  marvel- 
lous universe  of  things  and  men.  Science  also 
has  its  New  Testament.  The  beatitudes  of  phi- 
losophy are  profoundly  touching ;  in  the  exact 
laws  of  matter  and  of  mind  the  great  Author  of  the 
world  continually  says,  "  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that 
labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest." 

The  study  of  Nature  is  another  great  help  to  the 


CULTURE   OF   THE  RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  213 

cultivation  of  religion.  Familiarity  with  the  grass 
and  the  trees  teaches  us  deeper  lessons  of  love  and 
trust  than  we  can  glean  from  the  writings  of  Fene- 
lon  and  Augustine.  What  lessons  did  Socrates, 
Jesus,  and  Luther  learn  from  the  great  Bible  of  God, 
ever  open  before  mankind !  It  is  only  indirectly 
that  He  speaks  in  the  sights  of  a  city,  —  the  brick 
garden  with  dioecious  fops  for  flowers.  But  in  the 
country  all  is  full  of  God,  and  the  eternal  flowers  of 
heaven  seem  to  shed  sweet  influence  on  the  perisha- 
ble blossoms  of  the  earth.  Nature  is  full  of  religious 
lessons  to  a  thoughtful  man.  The  great  sermon  of 
Jesus  was  preached  on  a  mountain,  which  preached 
to  him  as  he  to  the  people,  and  his  figures  of  speech 
were  first  natural  figures  of  fact.  But  the  religious 
use  to  be  made  of  natural  objects  would  require  a 
sermon  of  itself. 

The  great  reliance  for  religious  growth  must  not 
be  on  any  thing  external ;  not  on  the  great  and  liv- 
ing souls  whom  God  sends,  rarely,  to  the  earth,  to 
water  the  dry  ground  with  their  elocmence,  and 
warm  it  with  their  human  love  ;  nor  must  it  be  on 
the  choicest  gems  of  religious  thought,  wherein 
saints  and  sages  have  garnered  up  their  life  and  left 
it  for  us.  We  cannot  rely  on  the  beauty  or  the 
power  of  outward  Nature  to  charm  our  wandering 
soul  to  obedience  and  trust  in  God.     These  things 


214  CULTUKE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

may  jostle  us  by  the  elbow  when  we  read,  warn  us 
of  wandering,  or  of  sloth,  and  open  the  gate,  but  we 
must  rely  on  ourselves  for  entering  in.  By  the  aid 
of  others  and  our  own  action  we  must  form  the  ideal 
of  a  religious  man,  of  what  he  ought  to  be  and  do, 
under  our  peculiar  circumsteftices.  To  form  this 
personal  ideal,  and  fit  ourselves  thereto,  requires  an 
act  of  great  earnestness  on  our  part.  It  is  not  a 
thing  to  be  done  in  an  idle  hour.  It  demands  the 
greatest  activity  of  the  mightiest  mode  of  mind. 
But  what  a  difference  there  is  between  men  in 
earnestness  of  character!  Do  you  understand  the 
"  religion  "  of  a  frivolous  man  ?  With  him  it  is  all 
a  trifle  ;  the  fashion  of  his  religion  is  of  less  concern 
than  the  fashion  of  his  hat  or  of  the  latchet  of  his 
shoes.  He  asks  not  for  truth,  for  justice,  for  love,  — 
asks  not  for  God,  cares  not.  The  great  sacrament 
of  religious  life  is  to  him  less  valuable  than  a  flask 
of  Rhenish  wine  broke  on  a  jester's  head,  i'he  spe- 
cific levity  of  these  men  appears  in  their  relation  to 
religion.  The  fool  hath  said  in  his  heart,  "  There  is 
no  God."  Quoth  the  fop  in  his  waistcoat,  "  What 
if  there  be  none  ?  What  is  that  to  me  ?  Let  us 
dance  and  be  silly  !  "  Did  you  ever  see  a  frivolous 
man  and  maid  in  love,  —  so  they  called  it  ?  I 
have  :  it  was  like  putting  on  a  new  garment  of  un- 
certain fit ;  and  the  giving  and  the  taking  of  what 
was  called  a  "  heart "  was  like  buying  a  quantity  of 


CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  215 

poison  weed  to  turn  to  empty  smoke.  They  were 
"  fearfully  and  wonderfully  made  for  each  other." 
So  have  I  seen  a  silly  man  give  a  bad  coin  to  a  beg- 
gar in  the  streets. 

I  know  there  are  those  whose  practical  religion  is 
only  decency.  They  have  no  experience  of  religion, 
but  the  hiring  of  a  seat  in  a  church  where  pew  and 
pulpit  both  invite  to  sleep,  —  whose  only  sacrifice  is 
their  pew-tax ;  their  single  sacrament  but  bodily 
presence  in  a  church.  There  are  meeting-houses 
full  of  such  men,  which  ecclesiastical  upholsterers 
have  furnished  with  pulpit,  and  pew,  and  priest, 
objects  of  pity  to  men  with  human  hearts  ! 

"When  an  earnest  young  man  offers  a  woman  his 
heart  and  his  life  and  his  love,  asking  her  for  her 
heart  and  her  life  and  her  love,  it  is  no  easy  hour  to 
man  or  maid.  The  thought  of  it  takes  the  rose 
out  of  the  young  cheek,  gives  a  new  lustre  to  the 
eye  which  has  a  deeper  and  mysterious  look,  and  a 
terrible  throbbing  to  the  heart.  For  so  much  de- 
pends upon  a  word  that  forms  or  else  misshapes  so 
much  in  life,  and  soul  and  sense  are  clamoring  for 
their  right.  The  past  comes  up  to  help  create  the 
future,  and  all  creation  is  new  before  the  lover's  eye, 
and  all 

"  The  floor  of  heaven 
Is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  bright  gold." 


216  CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

So  is  it  in  some  great  hour  when  an  earnest  man 
holds  communion  with  himself,  seeking  to  give  and 
take  with   God,   and  asks :  "  What  ought  I  in  my 
life  to  be  and  do  ?  "     Depend  upon  it,  only  to  the 
vulearest  of  men  is  it  a  common  hour.     I  will  not 
say  that  every  earnest  man  has  his  one  enamored 
hour  of  betrothing  himself  to  religion.     Some  have 
this  sudden  experience,  and  give  themselves  to  piety 
as  they  espouse  a  bride  found  when  not  looked  for, 
and  welcomed  with   a  great  swelling  of  the  heart 
and    prophetic     bloomings    of   the    yearning  soul. 
Others  go  hand  in  hand  therewith  as  brother  and 
sister,  through  all  their  early  days  in  amiable  amity 
which  sin  has  never  broke  and  seldom  jarred ;  and 
so  the  wedlock  of  religion  is  as  the  acquaintance 
which  began  in  babyhood,  was  friendship  next  at 
home  and  school,  and  slowly  under  tranquil  skies 
grew  up  and  blossomed  out  at  last  to  love.     This  is 
the   common  way,  —  an  ascent  without  a  sudden 
leap.     If  bred  as  religious  children,  you  grow  up  re- 
ligious men.     But  under  the  easiest  of  discipline,  I 
think,  every  earnest  man  has  his  time  of  trial  and  of 
questioning,  when  he  asks  himself,  "  Shall  I  serve 
the  soul  by  a  life  of  piety ;  or  shall  I  only  serve  the 
flesh,  listing  in  the  popular  armada  of  worldliness 
to  do  battle  in  that  leprous  host  ?     That,  I  say,  is  a 
time  of  trial. 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  217 

Let  us  suppose  some  earnest  man  forms  the  true 
ideal  of  religion,  —  of  his  duty  to  himself,  his  brother, 
and  his  God.  He  is  next  to  observe  and  attend  to 
himself,  making  his  prayer  a  practice,  and  his  ideal 
dream  an  actual  day  of  life.  Here  he  is  to  watch 
and  scan  himself,  to  see  what  causes  help,  and  what 
hinder  him  in  his  religious  growth.  We  have  differ- 
ent dispositions,  all  of  us  ;  what  tempts  one,  is  noth- 
ing to  another  man  ;  every  heart  knows  only  its  own 
bitterness,  not  also  that  of  another.  Let  me  know 
my  weak  points  and  my  strong  ones  ;  forewarned,  I 
shall  be  then  forearmed.  This  man  in  the  period  of 
passion  is  led  off  by  the  lusts  of  the  body  ;  that  in 
the  period  of  calculation  is  brought  into  yet  greater 
peril  by  his  ambition,  —  his  love  of  riches,  place,  and 
the  respect  of  men.  The  Devil  rings  a  dollar  in  one 
man's  ear ;  he  dreams  of  money  every  day.  Some 
sensual  lust  catches  another,  as  flies  with  poisoned 
sweet.  To  speak  mythologically,  the  Devil  has  dif- 
ferent baits  to  lure  his  diverse  prey.  Love  of  ap- 
plause strips  this  man  of  his  conscience,  his  affec- 
tion, and  his  self-respect,  of  his  regard  for  God,  and 
drives  him  naked  through  a  dirty  world.  Let  a  man 
know  in  what  guise  the  tempter  comes,  and  when, 
and  he  will  not  suffer  his  honor  to  be  broken  through. 
For  this  purpose,  in  the  earlier  period  of  life,  or  later 
when  placed  in  positions  of  new  peril,  it  is  well  to 
ask  at  the  close  of  every  day,  "  What  have  I  done 

19 


218  CULTURE    OF   THE   RELIGIOUS    POWERS. 

that  is  wrong,  —  what  have  I  said,  or  thought,  or 
felt  ?  What  that  is  right  ?  "  It  is  well  thus  to  ori- 
ent yourself  before  your  Idea  and  your  God,  and  see 
if  there  be  any  evil  thing  in  you.  This  is  needful 
until  the  man  has  gained  complete  possession  of 
every  limb  of  his  body  and  of  each  faculty  of  his 
spirit,  and  can  use  them  each  after  its  own  law  in 
his  particular  position.  Then  he  will  do  right  with 
as  little  trouble  as  he  walks  about  his  daily  work. 
His  life  will  sanctify  itself. 

Do  you  know  how  artists  make  their  great  pic- 
tures ?  First,  they  form  the  idea.  It  is  a  work  of 
sweat  and  watching.  The  man  assembles  all  the 
shapes  of  beauty  and  of  power  which  he  has  ever 
seen,  or  thought,  or  fancied,  or  felt.  They  flash 
along  before  his  quickened  eye,  wildered  and  wan- 
dering now.  New  forms  of  beauty  spring  into  life 
at  the  bidding  of  his  imagination,  —  so  flowers  at 
touch  of  spring.  Erelong  he  has  his  idea,  compos- 
ite, gathered  from  many  a  form  of  partial  beauty, 
and  yet  one ;  a  new  creation  never  seen  before. 
Thus  in  his  seething  mind  Phidias  smelts  the  several 
beauty  of  five  hundred  Spartan  maids  into  his  one 
Pallas- Athena,  born  of  his  head  this  time,  a  grand 
eclecticism  of  loveliness.  So  Michael  devised  his 
awful  form  of  God  creating  in  the  Vatican  ;  and 
Raphael  his  dear  Cecilia,  sweetest  of  pictured  saints, 
—  so  fair,  she  drew  the  angels  down  to  see  her  sing, 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  219 

and  ears  were  turned  to  eyes.  Now  the  artist  has 
formed  his  idea.  But  that  is  not  all.  Next,  he  must 
make  the  idea  that  is  in  his  mind  a  picture  in  the 
eyes  of  men ;  his  personal  fiction  must  become  a 
popular  fact.  So  he  toils  over  this  new  work  for 
many  a  weary  day,  and  week,  and  month,  and  year, 
with  penitential  brush  oft  painting  out  what  once 
amiss  he  painted  in,  —  for  even  art  has  its  error,  the 
painter's  sin,  and  so  its  remorse ;  the  artist  is  made 
wiser  by  his  own  defeat.  At  last  his  work  stands 
there  complete, — the  holy  queen  of  art.  Genius  is 
the  father,  of  a  heavenly  line  ;  but  the  mortal  mother, 
that  is  Industry. 

Now  as  an  artist,  like  Phidias,  Angelo,  or  Ra- 
phael, must  hold  a  great  act  of  imagination  to  form 
his  idea,  and  then  industriously  toil,  often  wiping 
out  in  remorse  what  he  drew  in  passion  or  in  igno- 
rance ;  so  the  man  who  would  be  religious  must 
hold  his  creative  act  of  prayer,  to  set  the  great  ex- 
ample to  himself,  and  then  industriously  toil  to 
make  it  daily  life,  shaping  his  actual,  not  from  the 
chance  of  circumstance,  but  from  the  ideal  purpose 
of  his  soul. 

There  is  no  great  growth  in  manly  piety  without 
fire  to  conceive,  and  then  painstaking  to  reproduce 
the  idea,  —  without  the  act  of  prayer,  the  act  of 
industry.  The  act  of  prayer,  —  that  is  the  one  great 
vital  means  of  religious  growth  ;  the  resolute  desire 


220  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

and  the  unconquerable  will  to  be  the  image  of  a 
perfect  man  ;  the  comparison  of  your  actual  day 
with  your  ideal  dream  ;  the  rising  forth,  borne  up 
on  mighty  pens,  to  fly  towards  the  far  heaven  of 
religious  joy.  Fast  as  you  learn  a  truth,  moral, 
affectional,  or  religious,  apply  the  special  truth  to 
daily  life,  and  you  increase  your  piety.  So  the  best 
school  for  religion  is  the  daily  work  of  common  life, 
with  its  daily  discipline  of  personal,  domestic,  and 
social  duties,  —  the  daily  work  in  field  or  shop,  mar- 
ket or  house,  "  the  charities  that  soothe  and  heal 
and  bless." 

Nothing  great  is  ever  done  without  industry. 
Sloth  sinks  the  idle  boy  to  stupid  ignorance,  and 
vain  to  him  are  schools,  and  books,  and  all  the  ap- 
pliances of  the  instructor's  art.  It  is  industry  in 
religion  which  makes  the  man  a  saint.  What  zeal 
is  there  for  money,  —  what  diligence  in  learning  to 
be  a  lawyer,  a  fiddler,  or  a  smith !  The  same  indus- 
try to  be  also  religious  men,  —  what  noble  images 
of  God  it  would  make  us !  ay,  what  blessed  men. 
Even  in  the  special  qualities  of  fiddler,  lawyer, 
smith,  we  should  be  more  ;  for  general  manhood  is 
the  stuff  we  make  into  tradesmen  of  each  special 
craft,  and  the  gold  which  was  fine  in  the  ingot  is 
fine  also  in  the  medal  and  the  coin. 

You  have  seen  a  skilful  gardener  about  his  work. 
He  saves  the  slips  of  his  pear-trees,  primings  from 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  221 

his  currant-bush  ;  he  watches  for  the  sunny  hours  in 
spring  to  air  his  passion-flower  and  orange-tree. 
How  nicely  he  shields  his  dahlias  from  the  wind, 
his  melons  from  the  frost!  Patiently  he  hoards  cut- 
tings from  a  rose-bush,  and  the  stone  of  a  peach ; 
choice  fruit  in  another's  orchard  next  year  is  grafted 
on  his  crabbed  stock,  which  in  three  years  rejoices 
in  alien  flowers  and  apples  not  its  own.  Are  we 
not  gardeners,  all  of  us,  to  fill  our  time  with  greener 
life,  with  fragrant  beauty,  and  rich,  timely  fruit? 
There  are  bright,  cheery  morning  hours  good  for 
putting  in  the  seed ;  moments  of  sunnier  delight, 
when  some  success  not  looked  for,  the  finding  of  a 
friend,  husband,  or  wife,  the  advent  of  a  child,  mel- 
lows the  hours.  Then  nurse  the  tender  plant  of 
piety ;  one  day  its  bloom  will  adorn  your  gloomy 
hour,  and  be  a  brightness  in  many  a  winter  day 
which  now  you  reck  not  of. 

There  are  days  of  sadness  when  it  rains  sorrow 
on  you,  —  when  you  mourn  the  loss  of  friends,  their 
sad  defeat  in  mortal  life,  or  worse  still,  the  failure 
of  yourself,  your  wanderings  from  the  way  of  life, 
or  prostrate  fall  therein.  Use,  then,  O  man,  these 
hours  for  penitence,  if  need  be,  and  vigorous  re- 
solve. Water  the  choicest,  tender  plants;  one 
day  the  little  seedling  you  have  planted  with  your 
tears  shall  be  a  broad  tree,  and  under  its  arms  you 

19* 


222  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

will  screen  your  head  from  the  windy  storm  and 
the  tempest ;  —  yes,  find  for  your  bones  a  qviiet 
grave  at  last. 

Do  you  commit  a  sin,  an  intentional  violation 
of  the  law  of  God,  you  may  make  even  that  help 
you  in  your  religious  growth.  He  who  never  hun- 
gered knows  not  the  worth  of  bread  ;  who  never 
suffered,  nor  sorrowed,  nor  went  desolate  and  alone, 
knows  not  the  full  value  of  human  sympathy  and 
human  love.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  a 
man  who  had  never  sinned  nor  broke  the  integrity 
of  his  consciousness,  nor,  by  wandering,  disturbed 
the  continuity  of  his  march  towards  perfection, — 
that  he  could  not  know  the  power  of  religion  to 
fortify  the  soul.  But  there  are  no  such  men.  We 
learn  to  walk  by  stumbling  at  the  first ;  and  spirit- 
ual experience  is  also  bought  by  errors  of  the  soul. 
Penitence  is  but  the  cry  of  the  child  hurt  in  his 
fall.  Shame  on  us  that  we  affect  the  pain  so  oft, 
and  only  learn  to  whine  an  unnatural  contrition ! 
Sure  I  am  that  the  grief  of  a  soul,  self-wounded,  the 
sting  of  self-reproach,  the  torment  of  remorse  for 
errors  of  passion,  for  sins  of  calculation,  may 
quicken  any  man  in  his  course  to  manhood,  till  he 
runs  and  is  not  weary.  The  mariner  learns  wisdom 
from  each  miscarriage  of  his  ship,  and  fronts  the 
seas  anew  to  triumph  over  wind  and  wave. 


CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS.  223 

Some  of  you  are  young  men  and  maidens.  You 
look  forward  to  be  husbands  and  wives,  to  be  fath- 
ers and  mothers,  some  day.  Some  of  you  seek  to 
be  rich,  some  honored.  Is  it  not  well  to  seek  to 
have  for  yourself  a  noble,  manly  character,  to  be  re- 
ligious men  and  women,  with  a  liberal  development 
of  mind  and  conscience,  heart  and  soul?  You  will 
meet  with  losses,  trials,  disappointments,  in  your 
business,  in  your  friends  and  families,  and  in  your- 
selves ;  many  a  joy  will  also  smile  on  you.  You 
may  use  the  sunny  sky  and  its  falling  weather  alike 
to  help  your  religious  growth.  Your  time,  young 
men,  what  life  and  manhood  you  may  make  of  that. 

Some  of  you  are  old  men,  your  heads  white  with 
manifold  experience,  and  life  is  writ  in  storied  hiero- 
glyphics on  cheek  and  brow.  Venerable  faces !  I 
hope  I  learn  from  you.  I  hardly  dare  essay  to  teach 
men  before  whom  time  has  unrolled  his  lengthened 
scroll,  men  far  before  me  in  experience  of  life.  But 
let  me  ask  you,  if,  while  you  have  been  doing  your 
work,  —  have  been  gathering  riches,  and  tasting  the 
joys  of  time,] —  been  son,  husband,  father,  friend,  — 
you  have  also  greatened,  deepened,  heightened  your 
manly  character,  and  gained  the  greatest  riches,  — 
the  wealth  of  a  religious  soul,  incorruptible  and  un- 
dented, the  joys  that  cannot  fade  away  ? 

For  old  or  young,  there  is  no  real  and  lasting 
human  blessedness  without  this.     It  is  the  sole  suf- 


224  CULTURE   OF   THE   RELIGIOUS   POWERS. 

ficient  and  assured  defence  against  the  sorrows  of 
the  world,  the  disappointments  and  the  griefs  of  life, 
the  pains  of  unrequited  righteousness  and  hopes 
that  went  astray.  It  is  a  never-failing  fountain  of 
delight. 

"  There  are  briers  besetting  every  path, 
That  call  for  patient  care  ; 
There  is  a  cross  in  every  lot, 

And  an  earnest  need  for  prayer; 
But  the  lowly  heart  that  trusts  in  Thee 
Is  happy  everywhere." 


VII. 

OF  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION  AS  A  SOURCE  OF 
STRENGTH. 


THE    LORD    IS    THE    STRENGTH    OF   MY    LIFE. Ps.  XXVli.  1. 

There  are  original  differences  of  spiritual  strength. 
I  mean  of  intellectual,  moral,  affectional,  and  relig- 
ious power ;  these  depend  on  what  may  be  called 
the  natural  spiritual  constitution  of  the  individual. 
One  man  is  born  with  a  strong  spiritual  constitu- 
tion, another  with  a  weak  one  !  So  one  will  be 
great,  and  the  other,  little.  It  is  no  shame  in  this 
case,  no  merit  in  that.  Surely  it  is  no  more  merit 
to  be  born  to  genius  than  to  gold,  to  mental  more 
than  to  material  strength  ;  no  more  merit  to  be  born 
to  moral,  affectional,  and  religious  strength  than  to 
mere  intellectual  genius.  But  it  is  a  great  conve- 
nience to  be  born  to  this  large  estate  of  spiritual 
wealth,  a  very  great  advantage  to  possess  the  high- 


226  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

est  form  of  human  power,  —  eminence  of  intellect, 
of  conscience,  of  the  affections,  of  the  soul. 

There  is  a  primitive  intellectual  difference  amongst 
men  which  is  ineffaceable  from  the  man's  mortal 
being,  as  the  primary  qualities  are  ineffaceable  from 
the  atoms  of  matter.  It  will  appear  in  all  the  life  of 
the  man.  Even  great  wickedness  will  not  wholly 
destroy  this  primeval  loftiness  of  mind.  Few  men 
were  ever  better  born  in  respect  to  intellect  than 
Francis  Bacon  and  Thomas  Wentworth,  — "  the 
great  Lord  Verulam  "  and  "  the  great  Earl  of  Straf- 
ford : "  few  men  ever  gave  larger  proof  of  superior 
intellect,  even  in  its  highest  forms  of  development, 
of  general  force  and  manly  vigor  of  mind  ;  few  ever 
used  great  natural  ability,  great  personal  attain- 
ments, and  great  political  place,  for  purposes  so  self- 
ish, mean,  and  base.  Few  ever  fell  more  com- 
pletely. *Yet,  spite  of  that  misdirection  and  abuse, 
the  marks  of  greatness  and  strength  appear  in  them 
both  to  the  very  last.  Bacon  was  still  "  the  wisest, 
brightest,"  if  also  "  the  meanest  of  mankind."  I 
know  a  great  man  may  ruin  himself;  stumbling  is 
as  easy  for  a  mammoth  as  a  mouse,  and  much  more 
conspicuous  ;  but  even  in  his  fall  his  greatness  will 
be  visible.  The  ruin  of  a  colossus  is  gigantic,  —  its 
fragments  are  on  a  grand  scale.  You  read  the  size 
of  the  ship  in  the  timbers  of  the  wreck,  fastened 
with  mighty  bolts.     The  Tuscan  bard  is  true  to  na- 


SOURCE   OF    STRENGTH.  227 

ture  as  to  poetry  in  painting  his  odious  potentates 
magnificently  mighty  even  in  hell.  Satan  fallen 
seems  still  "  not  less  than  archangel  ruined"  ! 

I  do  not  deny  this  natural  and  ineffaceable  differ- 
ence between  men  in  reference  to  their  strength  of 
character,  their  quantity  of  being.  I  am  not  going 
to  say  that  conscious  piety  will  make  a  great  man 
out  of  a  little  one  ;  that  it  would  give  to  George  the 
Third  the  strength  of  Charlemagne  or  Napoleon. 
No  training  will  make  the  shrub-oak  a  tree-oak  ;  no 
agriculture  swell  a  cape  to  a  continent.  But  I  do 
mean  to  say,  that  religion,  conscious  piety,  will 
increase  the  actual  strength  of  the  great  and  of  the 
little ;  that  through  want  of  religious  culture  the 
possibility  of  strength  is  diminished  in  both  the  little 
and  the  great. 

Not  only  does  religion  greaten  the  quantity  of 
power,  it  betters  its  quality  at  the  same  time.  So 
it  both  enlarges  a  man's  general  power  for  himself 
or  his  brother,  and  enhances  the  mode  of  that  power, 
thus  giving  him  a  greater  power  of  usefulness  and  a 
greater  power  of  welfare,  more  force  to  delight,  more 
force  to  enjoy.  This  is  true  of  religion  taken  in  its 
wide  sense,  —  a  life  in  harmony  with  myself,  in  con- 
cord with  my  brother,  in  unity  with  my  God ;  true 
of  religion  in  its  highest  form,  the  conscious  worship 
of  the    Infinite  God   by  the   normal   use  of  every 


228  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

faculty  of  the  spirit,  every  limb  of  the  body,  and 
every  portion  of  material  or  social  power. 

Without  this  conscious  religious  development,  it 
seems  to  me  that  no  strength  or  greatness  is  admira- 
bly human  ;  and  with  it,  no  smallness  of  opportu- 
nity, no  littleness  of  gift,  is  contemptible  or  low.  I 
reverence  great  powers,  given  or  got;  but  I  rever- 
ence much  more  the  faithful  use  of  powers  either 
large  or  little. 

Strength  of  character  appears  in  two  general 
modes  of  power,  accordingly  as  it  is  tried  by  one 
or  other  of  two  tests.  It  is  power  to  do,  or  power 
to  bear.  One  is  active,  and  the  other  passive,  but 
both  are  only  diverse  modes  of  the  same  thing. 
The  hard  anvil  can  bear  the  blows  of  the  hard  ham- 
mer which  smites  it,  because  there  is  the  same  solid- 
ity in  the  nether  anvil  which  bears  up,  as  in  the 
upper  hammer  which  bears  down.  It  takes  as  much 
solidity  to  bear  the  blow  as  to  give  it ;  only  one  is 
solidity  active,  the  other  merely  passive. 

Religion  increases  the  general  strength  and  vol- 
ume of  character.  The  reason  is  plain  :  Religion  is 
keeping  the  natural  law  of  human  nature  in  its  three- 
fold mode  of  action,  —  in  relation  to  myself,  to  my 
brother,  and  to  my  God;  the  coordination  of  my 
will   with  the   will  of   God,  with  the  ideal  of  my 


SOUKCE   OF   STRENGTH.  229 

nature.  So  it  is  action  according  to  my  nature,  not 
against  it ;  it  is  the  agreement  of  my  finite  will  with 
the  Infinite  WiLl  which  controls  the  universe  and 
provides  for  each  portion  thereof. 

Now,  to  use  a  thing  against  its  nature,  to  abuse  it, 
is  ultimately  to  fail  of  the  natural  end  thereof,  and 
waste  the  natural  means  provided  for  the  attain- 
ment of  the  end.  A  boat  is  useful  to  journey  with 
by  sea,  a  chaise  to  journey  with  by  land  ;  use  each 
for  its  purpose,  you  enjoy  the  means  and  achieve 
the  end.  But  put  off  to  sea  in  your  chaise,  or  put 
on  to  land  in  your  boat,  you  miss  the  end,  —  you 
lose  also  the  means.  This  is  true  of  the  natural,  as 
of  the  artificial  instruments  of  man ;  of  his  limbs, 
as  of  his  land-carriages  or  sea-carriages.  Hands  are 
to  work  with,  feet  to  walk  on ;  the  feet  would  make 
a  poor  figure  in  working,  the  hands  an  ill  figure  in 
essaying  to  walk.  The  same  rule  holds  good  in 
respect  to  spiritual  faculties  as  in  bodily  organs. 
Passion  is  not  designed  to  rule  conscience,  but  to 
serve ;  conscience  not  to  serve  passion,  but  to  rule. 
If  passion  rule  and  conscience  serve,  the  end  is  not 
reached,  you  are  in  a  state  of  general  discord  with 
yourself,  your  brother,  and  your  God  ;  the  means 
also  fail  and  perish ;  conscience  becomes  weak,  the 
passion  itself  dies  from  the  plethora  of  its  indul- 
gence ;  the  whole  man  grows  less  and  less,  till  he 
becomes  the  smallest  thing  he  is  capable  of  dwind- 

20 


230  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

ling  into.  But  if  conscience  rule  and  passion  serve, 
all  goes  well ;  you  reach  the  end,  —  welfare  in  gen- 
eral, harmony  with  yourself,  concord  with  your 
brother,  and  unity  with  your  God;  you  keep  the 
means,  —  conscience  and  passion  are  each  in  posi- 
tion, and  at  their  proper  function ;  the  faculties 
enlarge  until  they  reach  their  entire  measure  of  pos- 
sible growth,  and  the  whole  man  becomes  the  great- 
est he  is  capable  of  being  here  and  now. 

You  see  this  strength  of  character,  which  natu- 
rally results  from  religion,  not  only  in  its  general 
forms,  but  in  its  special  modes.  Look  a  moment  at 
the  passive  power,  the  power  to  endure  suffering. 
See  the  fact  in  the  endurance  of  the  terrible  artificial 
torments  that  are  used  to  put  down  new  forms  of 
religion,  or  extinguish  the  old.  While  men  believe  in 
the  divinity  of  matter,  they  try  suspected  persons 
by  exposure  to  the  elements,  —  walking  over  redhot 
ploughshares,  holding  fire  in  the  naked  hand,  or 
plunging  into  water.  All  new  forms  of  religion 
must  pass  through  the  same  ordeal,  and  run  the 
gauntlet  betwixt  bishops,  priests,  inquisitors;  be- 
tween scribes,  Pharisees,  and  hypocrites.  See 
how  faithfully  the  trial  has  been  borne.  Men  nat- 
urally shrink  from  pain ;  the  stout  man  dreads  the 
toothache,  he  curls  at  the  mention  of  the  rheuma- 
tism, and  shivers  at  the  idea  of  an  ague ;  how  sud- 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  231 

denly   he   drops   a   piece   of  burning   paper   which 
would   tease   his   hand   for   a   minute!     But  let   a 
man   have  religion   wakened   in   his    heart,  and  be 
convinced  that  it  is  of  God,  let  others  attempt  to 
drive  it  out  of  him,  and  how  ready  is  he  to  bear  all 
that   malice   can   devise   or   tyranny   inflict!      The 
thumb-screws  and  the  racks,  the  whip,  the  gallows, 
and  the   stake,  —  the  religious  man  has  strength  to 
bear  all  these;  and    Cranmer  holds  his  right  arm, 
erring  now  no  more,  in  the  flame,  till  the  hand  drops 
off  in  the  scalding  heat.     You   know   the  persecu- 
tions of  Peter  and  Paul,  the  martyrdom  of  Stephen, 
the   trials  of  early   Christians,  —  Ignatius,  Polycarp, 
Justin,  Irenseus,  and  the  rest.     They  all  went  out  to 
preach  the  form  of  religion  themselves  had  practised, 
and  enjoyed  in  their  own  souls.     What  could  they 
offer  men  as  an  inducement  to    conversion  ?     The 
common  argument   at  this  day,  —  respectability,    a 
comfortable  life  and  an  honorable  death,  the  praise 
of  men  ?     Could  Origen  and  Cyprian  tell  the  young 
maiden :  "  Come    to    our   church,    and    you  will  be 
sure  to   get  a  nice   husband,  as  dainty  fine  as  any 
patrician  in  Ephesus    or  Carthage  ? "      Could   they 
promise  "  a  fashionable  company  in  prayer,"  and  a 
rich    wife     to    the    young    man    who    joined   their 
church  ?     It  was   not  exactly  so ;  nay,  it  was   con- 
siderably different.     They  could  offer  their  converts 
hunger,   and  nakedness,  and  peril,  and  prison,   and 


232 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 


the  sword ;  ay,  and  the  scorn  of  relatives  and  the 
contemporaneous  jeer  of  a  cruel  world.  But  "  the 
word  of  God  grew  and  prevailed."  The  nice  vo- 
luptuary, the  dainty  woman,  too  delicate  to  set 
foot  upon  the  ground,  became  converted,  and  then 
they  could  defy  the  axe  of  the  headsman  and  the 
tormentor's  rack.  Unabashed  they  stood  before 
wild  beasts;  ay,  they  looked  in  the  face  of  the 
marshals  and  commissioners  and  district  judges  of 
those  times, —  men  who  perverted  law  and  spit  on 
justice  with  blasphemous  expectoration,  —  and  yet 
the  religious  soul  did  not  fear ! 

In  the  Catholic  Church  this  is   Saint  Victorian's 
Day.     Here  is  the  short  of  his  story.     He  was  an 
African  nobleman  of  Adrumetum,  governor  of  Car- 
thage with  the  Roman  title  of  Proconsul,  the  wealth- 
iest man    in   the  province    of  Africa.      He   was    a 
Catholic  ;  but  Huneric,  the  king  of  the  Vandals  in 
Africa,  was  an  Arian,  and  in  the  year  four  hundred 
and    eighty  began  to  persecute  the  Catholics.     He 
commanded  Victorian  to  continue  the  persecution, 
offering  him  great  wealth   and  the  highest  honors. 
It    was    his    legal    obligation    to    obey    the    king. 
"  Tell  the   king   that    I   trust   in    Christ,"    said   the 
Catholic  proconsul;  uthe  king   may   condemn    me 
to  the  flames,  to  wild  beasts,  to  any  tortures,  I  shall 
never  renounce  the    Church."     He  was  put  to  the 
most    tormenting   tortures,    and   bore   them   like    a 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  233 

man.  Others  met  a  similar  death  with  the  same 
steadiness  of  soul.  Even  the  executioners  felt  the 
effect  of  such  heroism  of  endurance.  "  Nobody," 
said  they,  "  embraces  our  religion  now  ;  everybody 
follows  the  example  of  the  martyrs." 

The  Catholic  Church  tried  the  same  weapons 
against  heretics  that  had  been  first  found  wanting 
when  turned  against  the  early  '  Christians.  The 
tyrant,  with  the  instinct  of  Pharaoh,  seeks  to  de- 
stroy the  male  children,  the  masculine  intellect,  con- 
science, affections,  soul.  Then  a  new  race  of  Pauls 
and  Justins  springs  up  ;  a  new  Ignatius,  Polycarp, 
and  Victorian,  start  into  life.  The  Church  may 
burn  Arnaldo  da  Brescia,  Savonarola,  Huss ;  —  what 
profits  it  ?  The  religion  which  the  tyrant  persecutes 
makes  the  victim  stronger  than  the  victor ;  then  it 
steals  into  the  heart  of  the  people,  and  as  the  wind 
scatters  the  martyr's  ashes  far  and  wide,  so  the  spec- 
tacle or  the  fame  of  his  fidelity  spreads  abroad  the 
sentiment  of  that  religion  which  made  him  strong. 
The  persecuting  Nile  wafts  Moses  into  the  king's 
court,  and  the  new  religion  is  within  the  walls. 

You  know  how  the  Puritans  were  treated  in  Eng- 
land, the  Covenanters  in  Scotland  ;  you  know  how 
they  bore  trial.  You  have  heard  of  John  Graham, 
commonly  called  Lord  Claverhouse.  He  lived 
about  two  hundred  years  ago  in  England  and  Scot- 
land, one  of  that  brood  of  monsters  which  still  dis- 

20* 


234  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

grace   mankind,   and,    as   vipers    and    rattlesnakes, 
seem  born   to  centralize   and   incarnate  the  poison 
of  the  world.     An   original  tormentor,  if  there  had 
never  been  any  cruelty  he  would  have  invented  it, 
of  his  own   head.     Had  he  lived  in  New  England 
in  this  time,  he  would  doubtless  have  been  a  United 
States    commissioner    under    the    Fugitive     Slave 
Bill,  perhaps  a  judge  or  a  marshal;    at  any  rate,  a 
slave-hunter,  a  kidnapper    in   some    form ;  and    of 
course  he  would  now  be  as  much  honored  in  this 
city  as  he   then  was   in    Edinburgh   and    London, 
and    perhaps   as   well   paid.      Well,    Lord    Claver- 
house  had  a  commission  to  root  out  the  Covenant- 
ers with   fire   and  sword,  and   went   to   that  work 
with   the    zeal    of    an    American    kidnapper.      By 
means  of  his  marshals  he  one  day  caught  a  Scotch 
girl,   a    Covenanter.      She   was   young,   only   eigh- 
teen ;  —  she  was  comely  to  look  upon.     Her  name 
was    Margaret.       Graham   ordered   her   to   be   tied 
to  a  stake  in  the  sea  at  low-water,  and  left  to  drown 
slowly  at   the  advance  of  the   tide.     It  was  done : 
and  his  creatures — there  were  enough   of  them  in 
Scotland,  as  of  their  descendants  here,  —  his  com- 
missioners,   his    marshals,    and    his    attorneys  —  sat 
down  on  the  shore  to  watch  the  end  of  poor  Mar- 
garet.    It  was    an  end   not  to  be  forgotten.     In  a 
clear,  sweet  voice  she  sung  hymns  to  God  till  the 
waves  of  the  sea  broke  over  her  head  and  floated 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  235 

her  pious  soul  to  her  God  and  his  heaven.  Had 
Scotland  been  a  Catholic  country  there  would  have 
been  another  Saint  Margaret,  known  as  the 

"  Genius  of  the  shore 
In  her  large  recompense,  who  would  be  good 
To  all  that  wander  in  that  perilous  flood." 

You  all  know  what  strength  of  endurance  relig- 
ion gave  to  Bunyan  and  Fox,  and  their  compeers 
the  Quakers,  in  Boston  as  well  as  England ;  to 
the  Mormons  in  Missouri,  and  in  all  quarters  of 
Christendom.  Religion  made  these  men  formi- 
dably strong.  The  axe  of  the  tormentor  was  as 
idle  to  stay  them  as  the  gallows  to  stop  a  sun- 
beam. This  power  of  endurance  is  general,  of  all 
forms  of  religion.  It  does  not  depend  on  what  is 
Jewish  in  Judaism,  or  Christian  in  Christianity,  but 
on  what  is  religious  in  religion,  what  is  human  in 
man. 

But  that  is  only  a  spasmodic  form  of  heroism, — 
the  reaction  of  human  nature  against  unnatural  evil. 
You  see  religion  producing  the  same  strength  to 
endure  sufferings  which  are  not  arbitrarily  imposed 
by  cruel  men.  The  stories  of  martyrdom  only  bring 
out  in  unusual  forms  the  silent  heroism  which  works 
unheeded  in  society  every  day.  The  strength  is 
always  there  ;  oppression,  which  makes  wise  men 
mad,  in  making  religious  men  martyrs,  only  finds 
and  reveals  the  heroism ;  it  does  not  make  it,  more 


236  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION    AS    A 

than  the  stone-cutter  makes  the  marble  which  he 
hews  into  the  form  his  thought  requires.  The  he- 
roism is  always  there.  So  there  is  always  enough 
electricity  in  the  air  above  this  town  to  blast  it  to 
atoms  and  burn  it  to  cinders.  Not  a  babe  could  be 
born  without  it ;  not  a  snow-drop  bloom ;  yet  no 
one  heeds  the  silent  force.  Let  two  different 
streams  of  air,  one  warm,  the  other  cold,  meet  here, 
the  lightning  tells  of  the  reserved  power  which 
hung  all  day  above  our  heads. 

I  love  now  and  then  to  look  on  the  strength  of 
endurance  which  religion  gives  the  most  heroic 
martyrs.  Even  in  these  times  the  example  is 
needed.  Though  the  fagot  is  only  ashes  now, 
and  the  axe's  edge  is  blunt,  there  are  other  forms 
of  martyrdom,  bloodless  yet  not  less  cruel  in  motive 
and  effect.  But  I  love  best  to  see  this  same  strength 
in  lovelier  forms,  enduring  the  common  ills  of  life, — 
poverty,  sickness,  disappointment,  the  loss  of  friends, 
the  withering  of  the  fondest  hopes  of  mortal  men. 
One  is  occasional  lightning,  thundering  and  grand, 
but  transient ;  the  other  is  daily  sunshine  which 
makes  no  noisy  stir  on  any  day,  but  throughout  the 
year  is  constant,  creative,  and  exceeding  beautiful. 

Did  you  never  see  a  young  woman  with  the 
finest  faculties,  every  hope  of  mortal  success  crushed 
in  her  heart;  see  her  endure  it  all,  the  slow  torture 
which  eats  away  the  mortal  from  the  immortal,  with 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  237 

a  spirit  still  unruffled,  —  with  a  calm  cheerfulness 
and  a  strong  trust  in  God  ?  We  all  have  seen  such 
things,  —  the  loveliest  forms  of  martyrdom. 

Did  you  never  see  a  young  man  with  large 
faculties,  fitting  him  to  shine  among  the  loftiest 
stars  of  this  our  human  heaven,  in  the  name  of 
duty  forego  his  own  intellectual  culture  for  the 
sake  of  a  mother,  a  sister,  or  a  father  dependent 
upon  his  toil,  and  be  a  drudge  when  he  might  else 
have  been  a  shining  light ;  and  by  the  grace  of 
religion  do  it  so  that  in  all  of  what  he  counted 
drudgery  he  was  kinglier  than  a  king?  Did  you 
never  see  the  wife,  the  daughter,  or  the  son  of  a 
drunkard  sustained  by  their  religion  to  bear  sor- 
rows to  which  Nebuchadnezzar's  sevenfold-heat- 
ed furnace  were  a  rose-garden,  —  bear  it  and 
not  complain,  —  grow  sweeter  in  that  bitterness  ? 
There  are  many  such  examples  all  about  us,  and 
holy  souls  go  through  that  misery  of  torture  clean 
as  sunlight  through  the  pestilential  air  of  a  town 
stricken  with  plague.  So  the  pagan  poets  tell  a 
story  of  the  fountain  Arethusa,  which,  for  many  a 
league,  ran  through  the  salt  and  bitter  sea,  all  the 
way  from  Peloponnesus  to  Trinacria,  and  then 
came  up  pure,  sweet,  and  sparkling  water,  far  off 
in  Ortygia,  spreading  greenness  and  growth  in  the 
valley    where     the    anemone     and    asphodel    paid 


238 


CONSCIOUS   RELIGION  AS   A 


back  their  beauty  to  the  stream  which  gave  them 
life. 

Such  are  daily  examples  of  the  fortitude  and 
strength  to  suffer  which  religion  gives.  When  we 
look  carelessly  on  men  in  their  work  or  their  play, 
busy  in  the  streets  or  thoughtful  in  a  church,  we 
think  little  of  the  amount  of  religion  there  is  in 
these  human  hearts ;  but  when  you  need  it  in  times 
of  great  trial,  then  it  comes  up  in  the  broad  streets 
and  little  lanes  of  life.  Disappointment  is  a  bitter 
root,  and  sorrow  is  a  bitter  flower,  and  suffering  is 
a  bitter  fruit,  but  the  religious  soul  makes  medi- 
cine thereof,  and  is  strengthened  even  by  the  poi- 
sons of  life.  So  out  of  a  brewer's  drears  and  a 
distiller's  waste  in  a  city  have  I  seen  the  bee  suck 
sweetest  honey  for  present  joy,  and  lay  it  up  for 
winter's  use.  Yea,  the  strong  man  in  the  fable, 
while  hungering,  found  honey  in  the  lion's  bones 
he  once  had  slain ;  got  delight  from  the  destroyer, 
and  meat  out  of  the  eater's  mouth. 

Why  is  it  that  the  religious  man  has  this  power 
to  suffer  and  endure?  Religion  is  the  normal  mode 
of  life  for  man,  and  when  he  uses  his  faculties  ac- 
cording to  their  natural  law,  they  act  harmoniously, 
and  all  grow  strong.  Besides  this,  the  religious 
man  has  a  confidence  in  his  God ;  he  knows  there 
is  the  Infinite  One,  who  has  foreseen  all  and  pro- 


SOURCE   OP   STRENGTH.  239 

vided  for  all,  —  provided  a  recompense  for  all  the 
unavoidable  suffering  of  his  children  here.  If  you 
know  that  it  is  a  part  of  the  purpose  of  the  Infinite 
Father  that  you  must  suffer  to  accomplish  your 
own  development,  or  the  development  of  mankind, 
yet  understand  that  the  suffering  must  needs  be 
a  good  for  you, — then  you  will  not  fear.  "The 
flesh  may  quiver  as  the  pincers  tear,"  but  you 
quiver  not ;  the  will  is  firm,  and  firm  is  the  un- 
conquerable trust.  "Be  still,  O  flesh,  and  burn!" 
says  the  martyr  to  the  molecules  of  dust  that  form 
his  chariot  of  time,  and  the  three  holy  children  of 
the  Hebrew  tale  sing  psalms  in  their  fiery  furnace, 
a  Fourth  with  them ;  and  Stephen  in  his  stoning 
thinks  that  he  sees  his  God,  and  to  Paul  in  his 
prison  there  comes  a  great,  cheering  light;  —  yes, 
to  Bunyan,  and  Fox,  and  Latimer,  and  John  Rog- 
ers, in  their  torments  ;  to  the  poor  maiden  stifled 
by  the  slowly  strangling  sea ;  to  her  whose  crystal 
urn  of  love  is  shattered  at  her  feet ;  to  the  young 
man  who  sees  the  college  of  his  dream  fade  off 
into  a  barn ;  and  the  mother,  wife,  or  child  who 
sees  the  father  of  the  family  bloat,  deform,  and 
uglify  himself  into  the  drunkard,  and,  falling  into 
the  grave,  crush  underneath  his  lumbering  weight 
all  of  their  mortal  hopes.  Religion  gives  them  all 
a  strength  to  surfer,  and  be  blessed  by  the  trials  they 
endure.     There   are   times   when   nothing   outward 


240  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION    AS   A 

is  left  but  suffering.  Then  it  is  a  great  thing  to 
have  the  stomach  for  it,  the  faith  in  God  which 
disenchants  the  soul  of  pain.  Did  not  Jesus,  in 
the  Gospel,  have  his  agony  and  his  bloody  sweat, 
the  last  act  of  that  great  tragedy?  did  not  re- 
ligion come,  an  angel,  to  strengthen  him,  and  all 
alone,  deserted,  forsaken,  he  could  say,  "  I  am  not 
alone,  for  the  Father  is  with  me  ?  " 

"  The  darts  of  anguish  fix  not  where  the  seat 
Of  suffering  hath  been  thoroughly  fortified 
By  acquiescence  in  the  Will  supreme, 
For  time  and  for  eternity,  by  Faith, 
Faith  absolute  in  God,  including  Hope, 
And  the  defence  that  lies  in  boundless  love 
Of  His  perfection ;  with  habitual  dread 
Of  aught  unworthily  conceived,  endured 
Impatiently,  ill  done  or  left  undone, 
To  the  dishonor  of  His  holy  Name. 
Soul  of  our  souls  and  safeguard  of  the  world ! 
Sustain,  thou  only  canst,  the  sick  of  heart. 
Restore  their  languid  spirits,  and  recall 
Their  lost  affections  unto  Thee  and  Thine. 

"  Come  labor,  when  the  worn-out  frame  requires 
Perpetual  sabbath ;  come  disease  and  want, 
And  sad  exclusion  through  decay  of  sense ; 
But  leave  me  unabated  trust  in  Thee ;  — 
And  let  Thy  favor  to  the  end  of  life 
Sustain  me  with  ability  to  seek 
Repose  and  hope  among  eternal  things, 
Father  of  earth  and  heaven  !  and  I  am  rich, 
And  will  possess  my  portion  in  content." 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  241 

See   this  same    strength   in   another   form,  —  the 
power   to  do.     Religion    not   only  gives    the    femi- 
nine capacity  to  suffer,  but  the  masculine  capabil- 
ity to  do.     The   religious   man  can   do  more  than 
another  without  religion,  who  is  his  equal  in  other 
respects ;   because  he   masters  and  concentrates  his 
faculties,  making  them  work  in  harmony  with  each 
other,    in    concord   with    mankind,    in    unity    with 
God;  and  because  he  knows  there   is  a  God  who 
works  with  him,  and  so  arranges  the  forces  of  the 
universe,   that   every  wrong   shall   be   righted,   and 
the  ultimate  well-being  of  each  be  made  sure   of 
for  ever.     Besides,  he  has  a  higher  inspiration  and 
loftier   motive,  which   strengthen,  refine,  and  enno- 
ble him.     Adam  Clarke  tells  us  how  much  more  of 
mere  intellectual  labor    he    could  perform  after  his 
conversion   than   before.       Ignatius    Loyola    makes 
the    same  confession.      They    each    attribute    it   to 
the   technical   peculiarity  of  their   sectarianism,   to 
Methodism    or    Catholicism,   to     Christianity;    but 
the  fact  is   universal,  and  applies  to  religion  under 
all   forms.     It   is   easily   explained   by   the    greater 
harmony  of  the  faculties,  and  by  the  higher  motive 
which   animates  the   man,  the   more  certain   trust 
which   inspires   him.      An    earnest   youth    in   love 
with   an  earnest  maid,  —  his  love   returned,  —  gets 
more    power    of    character   from   the    ardor    of  her 
affection    and    the    strength    of    his   passion;    and 

21 


242  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

when  the  soul  of  man  rises  up  in  its  great  act  of 
love  to  become  one  with  God,  you  need  not  marvel 
if  the  man  is  strong.  "  I  can  do  all  things,"  says 
Paul,  "through  Christ  who  strengtheneth  me." 
Buddhists  and  Hebrews  and  Mohammedans  say 
the  same  of  their  religion. 

Then  religion  helps  a  man  to  two  positive  things, 
—  first,  to  a  desire  of  the  right ;  next,  to  a  progres- 
sive knowledge  and  practice  of  the  right.  Jus- 
tice is  always  power ;  whoso  has  that  commands 
the  world.  A  fool  in  the  right  way,  says  the  prov- 
erb, can  beat  a  wise  man  in  the  wrong.  The 
civilized  man  has  an  advantage  over  the  savage,  in 
his  knowledge  of  Nature.  He  can  make  the  forces 
of  the  universe  toil  for  him  :  the  wind  drives  his 
ship  ;  the  water  turns  his  mill,  spins,  and  weaves 
for  him ;  lightning  runs  his  errands  ;  steam  carries 
the  new  lord  of  Nature  over  land  or  ocean  without 
rest.  He  that  knows  justice,  and  does  it,  has  the 
same  advantage  over  all  that  do  it  not.  He  sets 
his  mill  on  the  rock,  and  the  river  of  God  for  ever 
turns  his  wheels. 

The  practice  of  the  right  in  the  common  affairs 
of  life  is  called  Honesty.  An  honest  man  is  one 
who  knows,  loves,  and  does  right  because  it  is 
right.  Is  there  any  thing  but  this  total  integrity 
which  I  call  religion,  that  can  be  trusted  to  keep  a 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  243 

man    honest  in  small  things    and  great  things,   in 
things  private  and  things  public  ?     I  know  nothing 
else   with   this    power.     True  it  is  said,   "  Honesty 
is  the  best  policy ; "  and  as  all  men  love  the  best 
policy,  they  will  be  honest  for  that  reason.     But  to 
follow  the  best  policy  is  a  very  different  thing  from 
being   honest;    the  love  of  justice  and  the  love  of 
personal  profit  or  pleasure  are  quite  different.     But 
is    honesty   the   best   policy  ?     Policy  is    means  to 
achieve  a  special  end.     If  the  end  you  seek  be  the 
common  object  of  desire,  —  if  it  be  material  pleas- 
ure in  your  period  of  passion,  or  material  profit  in 
your  period  of  ambition,  —  if  you  seek  for  money, 
for  ease,  honor,  power  over  men,  and  their  approba- 
tion,—  then  honesty  is  not  the  best  policy;  is  means 
from  it,  not  to  it.     Honesty  of  thought   and   speech 
is  the  worst  policy  for  a  minister's  clerical  reputa- 
tion.    Charity  impairs   an  estate;  unpopular  excel- 
lence is  the  ruin  of    a    man's   respectability.     It  is 
good  policy  to  lie  in  the  popular  way ;  to  steal  after 
the  respectable  fashion.     The  hard  creditor  is  surest 
of  his   debt ;    the  cruel  landlord  does  not  lose   his 
rent ;  the  severe  master  is  uniformly  served  the  best ; 
who  gives  little  and  with  a  grudge  finds  often  the 
most  of  obvious  gratitude.     He  that  destroys  the 
perishing  is  more  honored  in   Christendom  than  he 
who  comes  to  save  the  lost.     The  slave-hunter  is  a 
popular  Christian  in  the  American  Church,  and  gets 


244  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

his  pay  in  money  and  ecclesiastical  reputation. 
The  honesty  of  Jesus  brought  him  to  the  bar  of 
Herod  and  Pilate  ;  their  best  policy  nailed  him  to 
the  cross.  Was  it  good  policy  in  Paul  to  turn 
Christian  ?  His  honesty  brought  him  to  weariness 
and  painf ulness,  to  cold  and  nakedness,  to  stripes 
and  imprisonment,  to  a  hateful  reputation  on  the 
earth.  Honesty  the  best  policy  for  personal  selfish- 
ness !  Ask  the  "  Holy  Alliance."  Honesty  is  the 
means  to  self-respect,  to  growth  in  manly  qualities, 
to  high  human  welfare,  —  a  means  to  the  kingdom 
of  heaven.  When  men  claim  that  honesty  is  the 
best  policy,  is  it  this  which  they  mean  ? 

I  will  not  say  a  man  cannot  be  honest  without 
a  distinct  consciousness  of  his  relation  to  God  ;  but 
I  must  say,  that  consciousness  of  God  is  a  great 
help  to  honesty  in  the  business  of  a  shop,  or  the 
business  of  a  nation  ;  and  without  religion,  uncon- 
scious if  no  more,  it  seems  to  me  honesty  is  not 
possible. 

By  reminding  me  of  my  relation  to  the  universe, 
religion  helps  counteract  the  tendency  to  selfishness. 
Self-love  is  natural  and  indispensable  ;  it  keeps  the 
man  whole, —  is  the  centripetal  power,  representing 
the  natural  cohesion  of  all  the  faculties.  Without 
that,  the  man  would  drop  to  pieces,  as  it  were,  and 
be  dissolved  in  the  mass  of  men,  as  a  lump  of  clay 
in  the  ocean.     Selfishness  is  the  abnormal  excess  of 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  245 

this  self-love.  It  takes  various  forms.  In  the  period 
of  passion,  it  commonly  shows  itself  as  intemperate 
love  of  sensual  pleasure  ;  in  the  period  of  ambition, 
as  intemperate  love  of  money,  of  power,  rank,  or 
renown.  There  are  as  many  modes  of  selfishness 
as  there  are  propensities  which  may  go  to  excess. 
Self-love  belongs  to  the  natural  harmony  of  the 
faculties,  and  is  a  means  of  strength.  Selfishness 
comes  from  the  tyranny  of  some  one  appetite,  which 
subordinates  the  other  faculties  of  man,  and  is  a 
cause  of  weakness,  a  disqualification  for  my  duties 
to  myself,  to  my  brother,  and  my  God.  Now  the 
effort  to  become  religious,  working  in  you  a  love  of 
man  and  of  God,  a  desire  of  harmony  with  yourself, 
of  concord  with  man  and  unity  with  Him,  dimin- 
ishes selfishness,  develops  your  instinctive  self-love 
into  conscious  self-respect,  into  faithfulness  to  your- 
self, and  so  enlarges  continually  the  little  ring  of 
your  character,  and  makes  you  strong  to  bear  the 
crosses  and  do  the  duties  of  daily  life. 

Much  of  a  man's  ability  consists  in  his  power  to 
concentrate  his  energies  for  a  purpose  ;  in  power  to 
deny  some  private  selfish  lust —  of  material  pleasure 
or  profit  —  for  the  sake  of  public  love.  I  know  of 
naught  but  religion  that  can  be  trusted  to  promote 
this  power  of  self-denial,  which  is  indispensable  to 
a  manly  man.  There  can  be  no  great  general 
power  without  this  ;    no   strong  character  that  lies 

21* 


246  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

deep  in  the  sea,  and  holds  on  its  way  through  sun- 
shine and  through  storm,  and  unabashed  by  tem- 
pests, comes  safe  to  port.  I  suppose  you  all  know 
men  and  women,  who  now  are  not  capable  of 
any  large  self-denial,  —  the  babies  of  mere  selfish 
instinct.  It  is  painful  to  look  on  such,  domineered 
over  by  their  propensities.  Compared  to  noble- 
hearted  men  and  women,  they  are  as  the  mushroom 
and  the  toadstool  to  the  oak,  under  whose  shade  the 
fungus  springs  up  in  a  rainy  night  to  blacken  and 
perish  in  a  day.  Self-denial  is  indispensable  to  a 
strong  character,  and  the  loftiest  kind  thereof  comes 
only  of  a  religious  stock,  —  from  consciousness  of  ob- 
ligation and  dependence  upon  God. 

In  youth  the  seductions  of  passion  lead  us  easily 
astray  ;  in  manhood  there  are  the  more  dangerous 
seductions  of  ambition,  when  lust  of  pleasure  gives 
way  to  lust  of  profit ;  and  in  old  age  the  man  is 
often  the  victim  of  the  propensities  he  delicately 
nursed  in  earlier  life,  and  dwindles  down  into  the 
dotage  of  a  hunker  or  a  libertine.  It  is  easy  to  yield 
now  to  this,  and  then  to  that,  but  both  mislead  us 
to  our  partial  and  general  loss,  to  weakness  of  power 
and  poverty  of  achievement,  to  shipwreck  of  this 
.great  argosy  of  mortal  life.  How  many  do  you  see 
slain  by  lust  of  pleasure  !  How  many  more  by  lust 
of  power,  —  pecuniary,  social,  or  political  power ! 
Religious  self-denial  would  have  kept  them  strong 
and  beautiful  and  safe. 


SOURCE    OF    STRENGTH.  247 

Religion  gives  a  man  courage.     I  do   not  mean 
the  courage  which  comes  of  tough  muscles  and  rigid 
nerves,  —  of  a    stomach    which    never     surrenders. 
That    also   is  a  good   thing,  the  hardihood    of  the 
flesh;  let  me  do  it  no  injustice.     But  I  mean   the 
higher,  moral  courage,  which  can  look  danger  and 
death    in   the    face  unawed    and    undismayed ;  the 
courage  that  can  encounter  loss  of  ease,  of  wealth, 
of  friends,  of  your   own  good  name ;  the   courage 
that  can  face  a  world  full  of  howling  and  of  scorn, 
—  ay,  of  loathing  and  of  hate  ;  can  see  all  this  with 
a  smile,  and,  suffering  it  all,  can  still  toil  on,  con- 
scious of  the  result,  yet  fearless  still.     I  do  not  mean 
the  courage  that  hates,  that  smites,  that  kills,  but 
the  calm  courage  that  loves  and  heals  and  blesses 
such  as  smite  and  hate  and  kill ;  the  courage  that 
dares  resist  evil,   popular,  powerful,   anointed    evil, 
yet  does  it  with  good,  and  knows  it  shall  thereby 
overcome.     That  is  not  a  common  quality.     I  think 
it  never  comes  without  religion.     It  belongs  to  all 
great  forms  of  religious  excellence ;  it  is  not  specifi- 
cally  Hebrew  or  Christian,  but  generically  human 
and  of  religion  under  all  forms. 

Without  this  courage  a  man  looks  little  and 
mean,  especially  a  man  otherwise  great,  —  with 
great  intellect,  and  great  culture,  and  occupying  a 
great  place.  You  see  all  about  you  how  little  such 
men  are  worth  ;  too  cowardly  to  brave  a  temporary 


248  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

defeat,  they  are  swiftly  brought  to  permanent  ruin. 
Look  over  the  long  array  of  brilliant  names  in 
American,  English,  universal  history,  and  see  what 
lofty  men,  born  to  a  large  estate  of  intellect,  and 
disciplined  to  manifold  and  brilliant  mental  power, 
for  lack  of  courage  to  be  true  amid  the  false,  and 
upright  amid  the  grovelling,  have  laid  their  proud 
foreheads  in  the  dust,  and  mean  men  have  tri- 
umphed over  the  mighty ! 

Did  you  never  read  here  in  your  Old  Testament, 
here  in  your  New  Testament,  here  in  your  Apocry- 
pha, how  religion  gave  men,  yea,  and  women  too, 
this  courage,  and  said  to  them,  "  Be  strong  and  very 
courageous ;  turn  not  to  the  right  hand,  neither 
to  the  left,"  —  and  made  heroes  out  of  Jeremiah 
and  Elias  ?  Did  you  never  read  of  the  strength  of 
courage,  the  courage  of  conscience,  which  religion 
gave  to  the  "  unlearned  and  ignorant  men,"  who, 
from  peasants  that  trembled  before  a  Hebrew 
Rabbi's  copious  beard,  became  apostles  to  stand 
before  the  wrath  of  kings  and  not  quake,  to  found 
churches  by  their  prayers,  and  to  feed  them  with 
their  blood  ?  You  know,  we  all  know,  what  cour- 
age conscious  religion  gave  to  our  fathers.  Their 
corporal  courage  grew  more  firmly  knit,  as  men 
learned  by  bitter  blows  who  crossed  swords  with 
them  on  the  battle  field  ;  but  their  moral  courage 
grew  giant  high.     You  know  how  they  dwelt  here, 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  249 

amid  what  suffering,  yet  with  what  patience ;  how 
they  toiled  to  build  up  these  houses,  these  churches, 
and  the  institutions  of  the  State. 

With  this  honesty,  this  self-denial,  there  comes 
a  total  energy  of  character  which  nothing  else  can 
give.  You  see  what  strength  religion  gives ;  what 
energy  and  continual  persistence  in  their  cause  it 
gave  to  men  like  the  Apostles,  like  the  martyrs  and 
great  saints  of  the  Christian  Church,  of  the  Hebrew, 
the  Mohammedan,  and  the  Pagan  Church.  You 
may  see  this  energy  in  a  rough  form  in  the  soldiers 
of  the  English  revolution,  in  the  "  Ironsides "  of 
Cromwell ;  in  the  stern  and  unflinching  endurance 
of  the  Puritans  of  either  England,  the  Old  or  the 
New,  who  both  did  and  suffered  what  is  possible  to 
mortal  flesh  only  when  it  is  sustained  by  a  religious 
faith.  But  you  see  it  in  forms  far  more  beautiful, 
as  represented  by  the  missionaries  who  carry  the 
glad  tidings  of  their  faith  to  other  lands,  and  endure 
the  sorrows  of  persecution  with  the  longsuffering 
and  loving-kindness  we  worship  in  the  good  God. 
This  is  not  peculiar  to  Christianity.  The  Buddhists 
had  their  missionaries  hundreds  of  years  before 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  first  saw  the  light.  They  seem 
to  have  been  the  first  that  ever  went  abroad,  not  to 
conquer,  but  convert ;  not  to  get  power,  or  wealth, 
or  even  wisdom,  but  to  carry  the  power  of  the  mind, 


250  CONSCIOUS  RELIGION   AS   A 

the  riches  of  conscience  and  the  affections,  and  the 
wisdom  of  the  soul ;  and  in  them  you  find  the  total 
energy  which  religious  conviction   gives   to    manly 
character  in  its  hour  of  peril.     But  why  go  abroad 
to  look  for  this  ?     Our  own  streets  exhibit  the  same 
thing  in  the  form  of  the  philanthropist.     The  Sister 
of  Charity  treads  the  miserable  alleys  of  Naples  and 
of  Rome  ;  the  Catholic  Visitor  of  the  Poor  winds 
alonsr  in  the  slousrhs  and  slums  of  St.  Giles's  Parish 
in  Protestant  London,  despised  and  hated  by  the 
well-endowed  clergy,  whose  church  aisles  are  never 
trodden  save  by  wealthy  feet ;  and  in  the  mire  of  the 
street,   in   the   reeking    squalidness    of    the   cellars, 
where  misery  burrows  with  crime,  he  labors  for  their 
bodies  and   their   souls.      In   our   own   Boston   do 
I   not    know    feeble-bodied    and    delicate    women, 
who  with  their  feet  write  out  the  gospel  of  loving- 
kindness   and   tender   mercy    on   the    mud    or    the 
snow    of    the    kennels    of    this-  city,  —  women    of 
wise  intellect  and  nice  culture,  who,  like  that  great 
philanthropist,  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
is  lost ! 

Look  at  the  reformers  of  America  at  this  day  ;  — 
some  of  them  men  of  large  abilities,  of  commen- 
surate culture,  of  easy  estate,  once  respected,  flat- 
tered, and  courted  too  by  their  associates,  but  now 
despised  for  their  justice  and  their  charity,  hated 
for  the  eminent  affection  which    makes  them  look 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  251 

after  the  welfare  of  the  criminal,  the  drunkard,  the 
pauper,  the  outcast,  and  the  slave,  and  feared  for  the 
power  with  which  they  assert  the  rights  of  man 
against  the  wrongs  which  avarice  inflicts.  See  the 
total  energy  which  marks  these  men,  whose  life  is  a 
long  profession  of  religion,  —  their  creed  writ  all 
over  the  land,  and  their  history  a  slow  martyrdom, 
—  and  you  may  see  the  vigor  which  comes  of  relig- 
ious conviction.  These  are  the  nobler  forms  of 
energy.  The  soldier  destroys,  at  best  defends,  while 
the  philanthropist  creates. 

Last  of  all  these  forms  of  strength,  religion  gives 
the  power  of  self-reliance  ;  reliance  on  your  mind 
for  truth,  on  your  conscience  for  justice,  on  your 
heart  for  love,  on  your  soul  for  faith,  and  through 
all  these  reliance  on  the  Infinite  God.  Then  you 
will  keep  the  integrity  of  your  own  nature  spite  of 
the  mightiest  men,  spite  of  a  multitude  of  millions, 
spite  of  States  and  crfurches  and  traditions,  and  a 
worldly  world  filled  with  covetousness  and  priest- 
craft. You  will  say  to  them  all,  "  Stand  by,  and 
let  alone  ;  I  must  be  true  to  myself,  and  thereby 
true  to  my  God." 


I  think  nothing  but  religion  can  give  any  man  this 
strength  to  do  and  to  suffer  ;  that  without  this,  the 


252  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

men  of  greatest  gift  and  greatest  attainment  too, 
do  not  live  out  half  the  glory  of  their  days,  nor 
reach  half  their  stature.  Look  over  the  list  of  the 
world's  great  failures,  and  see  why  Alexander, 
Caesar,  and  Napoleon  came  each  to  such  an  un- 
timely and  vulgar  end  !  Had  they  added  religion 
to  their  attainments  and  their  conquests,  what  em- 
pires of  welfare  would  they  not  hold  in  fee,  and  give 
us  to  enjoy!  Without  it,  the  greatest  man  is  a 
failure.  With  it,  the  smallest  is  a  triumph.  He 
adds  to  his  character;  he  enjoys  his  strength;  he 
delights  while  he  rejoices,  growing  to  more  vigorous 
manliness  ;  and  when  the  fragrant  petals  of  the  spirit 
burst  asunder  and  crowd  off  this  outer  husk  of  the 
body,  and  bloom  into  glorious  humanity,  what  a 
strong  and  flamelike  flower  shall  blossom  there  for 
everlasting  life. 

There  are  various  forms  of  strength.  Wealth  is 
power ;  office  is  power ;  beauty  is  power ;  knowl- 
edge is  power.  Religion  tob  is  power.  This  is  the 
power  of  powers,  for  it  concentrates,  moves,  and 
directs  aright  the  force  of  money,  of  office,  of  beauty, 
and  of  knowledge.  Do  men  understand  this  ? 
They  often  act  and  live  as  if  they  knew  it  not. 
Look  at  our  "strong  men,"  not  only  mighty  by 
position  in  office  or  on  money,  but  mighty  by  na- 
ture. In  what  are  they  strong  ?  In  a  knowledge  of 
the  passions  and  prejudices  of  men ;  of  the  interests 


SOURCE    OF    STRENGTH.  253 

and  expedients  and  honors  of  the  day ;  in  a  knowl- 
edge of  men's  selfishness  and  their  willingness  to 
sin ;  in  experienced  skill  to  use  the  means  for  cer- 
tain selfish,  low,  and  ignoble  ends,  organizing  a  con- 
trivance against  mankind  ;  in  power  of  speech  and 
act  to  make  the  better  seem  the  worse,  and  wrong 
assume  the  guise  of  right.  It  is  in  this  that  our 
"  great  men  "  are  chiefly  great.  They  are  weak  in 
a  knowledge  of  what  in  man  is  noble,  even  when  he 
errs  ;  they  know  nothing  of  justice ;  they  care  little 
for  love.  They  know  the  animal  that  is  in  us,  not 
the  human,  far  less  the  godlike.  Mighty  in  cunning, 
they  are  weak  in  knowledge  of  the  true,  the  just,  the 
good,  the  holy,  and  the  ever-beautiful.  They  look 
up  at  the  mountains  and  mock  at  God.  So  they 
are  impotent  to  know  the  expedient  of  eternity, 
what  profits  now  and  profits  for  ever  and  ever. 
Blame  them  not  too  much  ;  the  educational  forces 
of  society  breed  up  such  men,  as  college  lads  all 
learn  to  cipher  and  to  scan. 

In  the  long  run  of  the  ages  see  how  the  religious 
man  distances  the  unreligious.  The  memory  of  him 
who  seeks  to  inaugurate  cunning  into  the  state 
for  his  own  behoof,  is  erelong  gibbeted  before  the 
world,  and  his  lie  is  cast  out  with  scorn  and  hate  ; 
and  the  treason  of  the  traitor  to  mankind  is  remem- 
bered only  with  a  curse  ;  while  the  wisdom  of  the 

•22 


254  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

wise,  the  justice  of  the  upright,  the  love  of  the  affec- 
tionate, and  the  piety  of  holy-hearted  men,  incar- 
nated in  the  institutions  of  the  State,  live  and  will 
for  ever  live,  long  after  Rome  and  America  have 
gone  to  the  ground.  Tyrants  have  a  short  breath, 
their  fame  a  sudden  ending;  and  the  power  of  the  un- 
godly, like  the  lamp  of  the  wicked,  shall  soon  be  put 
out ;  their  counsel  is  earned,  but  it  is  carried  head- 
long. He  that  seeks  only  the  praise  of  men  gets 
that  but  for  a  day  ;  while  the  religious  man,  who 
seeks  only  to  be  faithful  to  himself  and  his  God,  and 
represent  on  earth  the  absolute  true  and  just,  all 
heedless  of  the  applause  of  men,  lives,  and  will  for 
ever  live,  in  the  admiration  of  mankind,  and  in  "  the 
pure  eyes  and  perfect  witness  of  all-judging  Jove." 
Champollion  painfully  deciphers  the  names  of  the 
Egyptian  kings  who  built  the  pyramids  and  swayed 
millions  of  men.  For  three  thousand  years  that 
lettered  Muse,  the  sculptured  stone,  in  silence  kept 
the  secret  of  their  name.  But  the  fugitive  slave,  a 
bondsman  of  that  king,  with  religion  in  his  heart, 
has  writ  his  power  on  all  the  continents,  and  dotted 
the  name  of  Moses  on  every  green  or  snow-clad 
isle  of  either  sea.  That  name  shall  still  endure 
when  the  last  stones  of  the  last  pyramid  become  gas 
and  exhale  to  heaven.  The  peasant  of  Galilee  has 
embosomed  his  own  name  in  the  religion  of  man- 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  255 

kind,  and  the  world  will  keep  it  for  ever.  Foolish 
men !  building  your  temple  of  fame  on  the  expedi- 
ents of  to-day,  and  of  selfishness  and  cunning  and 
eloquent  falsehood!  That  shall  stand, —  will  it? 
On  the  frozen  bosom  of  a  northern  lake  go,  build 
your  palace  of  ice.  Colonnade  and  capital,  how 
they  glitter  in  the  light  when  the  northern  dawn  is 
red  about  the  pole,  or  the  colder  moon  looks  on 
your  house  of  frost !  "  This  will  endure.  Why 
carve  out  the  granite,  and  painfully  build  upon  the 
rock  ?  "  Ah  me  !  at  the  touch  of  March,  the  ice- 
temple  and  its  ice-foundation  take  the  leap  of 
Niagara ;  and  in  April  the  skiff  of  the  fisherman 
finds  no  vestige  of  all  that  pomp  and  pride.  But 
the  temple  of  granite,  —  where  is  that  ?  Ask  Moses, 
ask  Jesus,  ask  mankind,  what  power  it  is  that  lasts 
from  age  to  age,  when  selfish  ambition  melts  in  the 
stream  of  time. 

Well,  we  are  all  here  for  a  great  work,  not  merely 
to  grow  up  and  eat  and  drink,  to  have  estates  called 
after  us  and  children  born  in  our  name.  We  are 
all  here  to  be  men ;  to  do  the  most  of  human  duty 
possible  for  us,  and  so  to  have  the  most  of  human 
right  and  enjoy  the  most  of  human  welfare.  Re- 
ligion is  a  good  thing  in  itself ;  it  is  the  betrothed 
bride  of  the  spirit  of  man,  to  be  loved  for  her  own 
sweet   sake ;    not   a   servant,   to   be   taken   for   use 


256  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

alone.  But  it  is  the  means  to  this  end,  —  to 
strength  of  character,  enlarging  the  little  and  great- 
ening  the  great. 

You  and  I  shall  have  enough  to  suffer,  most  of 
us  ;  enough  to  do.  We  shall  have  our  travail,  our 
temptation,  perhaps  our  agony,  but  our  triumph  too. 

O  smooth-faced  youths  and  maids  !  your  cheek 
and  brow  yet  innocent  of  stain,  do  you  believe  you 
shall  pass  through  life  and  suffer  naught  ?  Trial 
will  come  on  you;  —  you  shall  have  your  agony 
and  bloody  sweat.  Seek  in  the  beginning  for  the 
strength  which  religion  brings  you,  and  you  shall 
indeed  be  strong,  powerful  to  suffer,  and  mighty  also 
to  do.  I  will  not  say  your  efforts  will  keep  you 
from  every  error,  every  sin.  When  a  boy,  I  might 
have  thought  so  ;  as  a  man,  I  know  better,  by  ob- 
servation and  my  own  experience  too.  Sin  is  an 
experiment  that  fails  ;  a  stumble,  not  upright  walk- 
ing. Expect  such  mishaps,  errors  of  the  mind, 
errors  of  the  conscience,  errors  of  the  affections, 
errors  of  the  soul.  What  pine-tree  never  lost  a 
limb?  The  best  mathematician  now  and  then 
misses  a  figure,  must  rub  out  his  work  and  start 
anew.  The  greatest  poet  must  often  mend  a  line, 
and  will  write  faulty  verses  in  the  heat  of  song. 
Milton  has  many  a  scraggy  line,  and  even  good 
Homer  sometimes  nods.     What  defects  are  there  in 


SOURCE   OF   STRENGTH.  257 

the  proud  works  of  Raphael  and  Angelo !  Is  there 
no  failure  in  Mozart  ?  In  such  a  mighty  work  as 
this  of  life,  such  a  complication  of  forces  within,  of 
circumstances  without,  such  imperfect  guidance  as 
the  world  can  furnish  in  this  work,  I  should  expect 
to  miss  the  way  sometimes,  and  with  painful  feet, 
and  heart  stung  by  self-reproach,  or  grief,  or  shame, 
retread  the  way  shamefaced  and  sad.  The  field 
that  is  ploughed  all  over  by  Remorse,  driving  his 
team  that  breathe  fire,  yields  not  a  faint  harvest 
to  the  great  Reaper's  hand.  Trust  in  God  will  do 
two  things.  It  will  keep  you  from  many  an  error  ; 
nobody  knows  how  great  a  gain  this  is,  till  he  has 
tried.  Then  it  will  help  you  after  you  have  wan- 
dered from  the  way.  Fallen,  you  will  not  despair, 
but  rise  the  wiser  and  the  stronger  for  the  fall.  Do 
you  look  for  strength  to  your  brave  young  hearts, 
and  streams  of  life  to  issue  thence  ?  Here  you 
shall  find  it,  and  with  freshened  life  pass  on  your 
way.  Religion  is  the  Moses  to  smite  the  rock  in 
the  wilderness. 

O  bearded  men,  and  women  that  have  kept  and 
hoarded  much  in  your  experienced  hearts !  you  also 
seek  for  power  to  bear  your  crosses  and  to  do  your 
work.  Religion  will  be  the  strength  of  your  life,  — 
you  may  do  all  things  through  this.  When  the  last 
act  of  the  mortal  drama  draws  towards  a  close,  you 

22* 


258  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION. 

will  look  joyfully  to  the  end,  not  with  fear,  but  with 
a  triumphant  joy. 

There  are  two  great  things  which  make  up  the 
obvious  part  of  life,  —  to  do,  to  suffer.  Behind  both 
as  cause,  and  before  each  as  result,  is  one  thins: 
greater,  —  to  be.  Religion  is  true  Being,  normal 
life  in  yourself,  in  Nature,  in  men,  and  in  God. 


VIII. 

OF  CONSCIOUS  RELIGION  AS  A  SOURCE  OF  JOY, 


I   WILL   GO    UNTO    GOD,  MY  EXCEEDING    JOY. — Ps.  xliii.  4. 

Joy  is  not  often  mentioned  in  religious  books. 
It  is  sometimes  thought  to  have  no  place  in  relig- 
ion ;  at  least  none  here  and  now.  The  joy  of  the 
religious  man  is  thought  to  be  chiefly  in  the  future. 
Keligion  is  painted  with  a  sad  countenance.  Artists 
sometimes  mix  joyous  colors  in  their  representations 
thereof,  but  theologians  almost  never.  With  them, 
religion  is  gloomy,  severe,  and  grim.  This  is  emi- 
nently the  case  in  New  England.  The  Puritans  as 
a  class  were  devoutly  religious  in  their  way,  but 
they  were  sad  men ;  they  had  many  fast-days  and 
few  times  of  rejoicing.  Even  Sunday,  which  to  the 
rest  of  Christendom  was  an  occasion  of  festivity, 
was  to  them  a  day  of  grimness  and  of  fearing  the 
Lord ;  a  weariness  to  the  old  men,  and  an  intoler- 
able burden  to  the  children.     Look  at  the  pictures 


260  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

of  those  men,  so  bony  and  gaunt  and  grim ;  of  the 
women,  so  austere  and  unloving  in  their  look.  The 
unjoyous  characteristics  of  Puritanism  still  cleave  to 
us,  and  color  our  mode  of  religion  at  this  day,  and, 
spite  of  ourselves,  taint  our  general  philosophy  and 
view  of  life. 

The  Catholic  Church  is  less  serious,  less  in  ear- 
nest with  religion,  than  the  Church  of  the  Puritans, 
—  less  moral  and  reliant  on  God  than  the  Protestant 
Church  in  general,  —  so  it  seems  to  me;  but  even 
there  little  room  is  left  for  joy.  Their  richest  music 
is  a  Miserere,  not  an  Exidtemus  or  a  Te  Deum. 
The  joyous  chanting  of  Christmas,  of  Easter,  and 
of  Pentecost  is  inferior  to  the  sad  wail  of  Palm-Sun- 
day and  Good- Friday.  The  Stabat  Mater  and  the 
Dies  Irce  are  the  most  characteristic  hymns  of  the 
Catholic  Church.  The  paintings  and  statues  are 
chiefly  monuments  of  woe,  —  saints  in  their  tor- 
ments, Jesus  in  his  passion ;  his  stations  are  stations 
of  affliction,  and  the  via  sacra  of  his  life  is  painted 
as  a  long  via  dolorosa ;  God  is  represented  as  a 
Thunderer,  distinguished  chiefly  by  self-esteem  and 
destructiveness. 

Take  the  Christian  Church  as  a  whole,  from  its 
first  day  to  this,  study  all  expressions  of  the  religious 
feeling  and  thought  of  Christendom,  in  literature, 
painting,  and  music,  it  is  strangely  deficient  in  joy. 
Religion  is  unnatural  self-denial ;  morality  is  sym- 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  261 

bolized  by  a  celibate  monk,  eating  parched  pease 
and  a  water-cress  ;  piety,  by  a  joyless  nun.  The 
saints  of  the  Christian  Church,  Catholic  and  Prot- 
estant, are  either  stern,  heroic  men,  who  went  first 
and  foremost  on  a  field  of  battle,  to  peril  their  lives, 
men  whose  heroism  was  of  iron,  —  and  they  have 
never  been  extolled  above  their  merit,  —  or  else 
weeping  men,  sentimental,  sickly,  sad,  sorrowful, 
and  afraid.  Most  preachers  would  rather  send  away 
their  audience  weeping,  than  with  a  resolute,  a 
cheerful,  and  a  joyous  heart.  Yet  nothing  is  easier 
to  start  from  a  multitude  than  a  tear.  Cotton 
Mather,  in  his  life  of  his  kinsman,  Nathaniel,  a 
pious  clergyman  who  died  young,  mentions  as  his 
crowning  merit  the  fulness  of  his  fastings,  the  abun- 
dant mortifications  he  needlessly  imposed  upon  him- 
self, his  tear-stained  face.  Smiles  are  strange  phe- 
nomena in  a  church ;  sadness  and  tears  are  therein 
at  home. 

Even  the  less  earnest  sects  of  America,  calling 
themselves  "  Liberal  Christians,"  whose  ship  of 
souls  does  not  lie  very  deep  in  the  sea  of  life,  seem 
to  think  joy  is  not  very  nearly  related  to  religion. 
The  piety  of  a  round-faced  and  joyous  man  is 
always  a  little  suspected.  The  Cross  is  still  the 
popular  symbol  of  Christianity,  and  the  type  of  the 
saint  is  a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief, 
having  no  form  or  comeliness.     Sermons  of  joy  you 


262  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

seldom  hear ;  the  voice  of  the  pulpit  is  mainly  a 
whine ;  its  flowers  are  nightshade,  and  its  psalms  a 
Miserere. 

Everybody  knows  what  joy  is,  —  a  certain  sense 
of  gladness  and  of  pleasure,  a  contentment  and  a 
satisfaction,  sometimes  noisily  breaking  into  tran- 
sient surges  of  rapture,  sometimes  rolling  with  the 
tranquil  swell  of  calm  delight.  It  is  a  state  which 
comes  upon  any  particular  faculty,  when  that  finds 
its  natural  gratification.  So  there  may  be  a  partial 
joy  of  any  one  faculty,  or  a  total  joy  of  the  whole 
man,  all  the  faculties  normally  developed  and  nor- 
mally gratified.  If  religion  be  the  service  of  God 
by  the  normal  development,  use,  and  enjoyment  of 
every  limb  of  the  body,  every  faculty  of  the  spirit, 
and  every  power  acquired  over  matter  or  man,  then 
it  is  plain  that  religion  must  always  aim  at,  and  un- 
der favorable  circumstances  will  achieve,  a  complete 
and  total  joy  for  all  men. 

There  is  no  man  wholly  destitute  of  some  par- 
tial and  transient  joy;  for  if  all  the  conditions  need- 
ful to  the  welfare  of  each  faculty  of  mind,  or  to  each 
appetite,  were  wanting,  then,  part  by  part,  the  man 
would  perish  and  disappear.  On  the  other  hand,  no 
man,  I  think,  has  ever  had  a  complete,  total,  and 
permanent  enjoyment  of  every  part  of  his  nature. 
That  is  the  ideal   to  which  we  tend,  but  one  not 


SOURCE  OF  JOY.  263 

capable  of  complete  attainment  in  a  progressive 
being.  For  if  the  ideal  of  yesterday  has  become 
the  actual  of  to-day,  to-morrow  we  are  seized  with 
manly  disquiet  and  unrest,  and  soar  up  towards 
another  ideal. 

We  have  all  more  or  less  of  joy,  the  quantity  and* 
quality  differing  amazingly  amongst  men.  There 
are  as  many  forms  of  joy  as  there  are  propensities 
which  hunger  and  thirst  after  their  satisfaction. 
What  a  difference  in  the  source  whence  men  derive 
their  customary  delight. 

Here  is  a  man  whose  whole  joy  seems  to  come 
from  his  body  ;  not  from  its  nobler  senses,  offering 
him  the  pleasures  of  the  ear  and  the  eye,  but  from 
the  lower  parts  of  the  flesh,  imbruted  now  to  pas- 
sions which  seem  base  when  made  to  minister  the 
chief  delight  to  man.  We  could  not  think  highly 
of  one  who  knew  no  joy  above  the  pleasure  of  eat- 
ing and  drinking,  or  of  any  other  merely  animal 
satisfaction.  Such  joys  cannot  raise  man  far.  If 
one  had  his  chief  delight  in  fine  robes,  the  taste 
would  rather  degrade  him.  Yet  these  two  appetites, 
for  finery  in  food  and  finery  in  dress,  have  doubtless 
done  their  part  to  civilize  mankind.  It  is  surely 
better  for  the  race  to  rejoice  in  all  the  sumptuous 
delicacies  of  art,  than  to  feed  precariously  on  wild 
acorns  which  the  wind  shakes  down.  The  foolish 
fondness   for    gay   apparel    has    served   a   purpose. 


264  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

Nay,  so  marvellous  is  the  economy  of  God  in  his 
engineering  of  the  world,  that  no  drop  of  waste 
water  runs  over  the  dam  of  the  universe ;  and  as 
the  atom  which  now  sparkles  in  the  rainbow,  the 
next  minute  shall  feed  a  fainting  rose,  so  even  these 
sensual  desires  have  helped  to  uplift  mankind  from 
mere  subordination  to  the  material  world. 

There  is  another  man  whose  chief  joy  is  not 
merely  bodily,  but  yet  resides  in  his  selfish  appe- 
tites, in  his  lust  of  money,  or  lust  of  power.  I  pass 
by  the  joy  of  the  miser,  of  the  ambitious  politician, 
of  the  pirate  and  the  kidnapper.  They  are  so  well 
known  amongst  us  that  you  can  easily  estimate 
their  worth. 

Now  and  then  we  find  men  whose  happiness 
comes  almost  wholly  from  pure  and  lofty  springs, 
from  the  high  senses  of  the  body  or  the  high  facul- 
ties of  the  spirit, — joys  of  the  mind,  of  the  con- 
science, of  the  affections,  of  the  soul.  Difference  of 
quality  is  more  important  than  difference  in  mere 
bulk  ;  an  hour  of  love  is  worth  an  age  of  lust.  We 
all  look  with  some  reverence  on  such  as  seek  the 
higher  quality  of  joy. 

You  are  pleased  to  see  birds  feeding  their  wide- 
mouthed  little  ones ;  sheep  and  oxen  intent  upon 
their  grassy  bread;  reapers  under  a  hedge  enjoying 
their  mid-day  meal,  reposing  on  sheaves  of  corn 
new  cut.     All  this  is  nature  ;  the  element  of  neces- 


SOURCE    OF   JOY.  265 

sity  consecrates  the  meal.  Artistic  pictures  of  such 
scenes  are  always  attractive.  But  pictures  or  de- 
scriptions of  feasts  —  where  the  design  is  not  to 
satisfy  a  natural  want,  but  where  eating  and  drink- 
ing are  made  a  luxurious  art,  the  end  of  life,  and 
man  seems  only  an  appendage  to  the  table  —  are 
never  wholly  pleasing.  You  feel  a  little  ashamed 
of  the  quality  of  such  delight.  Even  the  marvel- 
lous pencil  of  Paul  of  Verona  here  fails  to  please. 
But  a  picture  of  men  finding  a  joy  in  the  higher 
senses,  still  more  in  thought,  in  the  common,  every- 
day duties  of  life,  in  works  of  benevolence  or  justice, 
in  the  delight  of  love,  in  contemplation,  or  in  prayer, 
—  this  can  touch  us  all.  We  like  the  quality  of 
such  delight,  and  love  to  look  on  men  in  such  a 
mood  of  joy.  I  need  only  refer  to  the  most  admired 
paintings  of  the  great  masters,  Dutch  or  Italian,  and 
to  the  poetry  which  chronicles  the  mortal  modes  of 
high  delight.  The  spiritual  element  must  subordi- 
nate the  material,  in  order  to  make  the  sensual  joy 
welcome  to  a  nice  eye.  In  the  Saint  Cecilia  of  Ra- 
phael, in  Titian's  Marriage  at  Cana,  in  Leonardo's 
Last  Supper,  it  is  the  preponderance  of  spiritual 
over  sensuous  emotion  that  charms  the  eye.  So  is 
it  in  all  poetry,  from  the  feeding  of  the  five  thou- 
sand to  the  sweet  story  of  Lorenzo  and  Jessica,  and 
the  moonlight  scene  of  their  love  whereby  "  heaven 
is  thick  inlaid  with  patines  of  bright  gold." 

23 


266  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

The  joy  of  a  New  England  miser,  gloating  over 
extortions  which  even  the  law  would  cough  at,  the 
delight  of  a  tyrant  clutching  at  power,  of  a  Boston 
kidnapper  griping  some  trembling  slave,  or  counting 
out  the  price  of  blood  which  a  wicked  government 
bribes  him  withal, — that  would  hardly  be  accept- 
able even  here  and  to-day,*  though  painted  with  the 
most  angelic  power  and  skill.  It  would  be  a  painted 
satire,  not  a  pictured  praise ;  the  portrait  of  a  devil's 
joy  can  be  no  man's  delight. 

Everybody  knows  the  joy  of  the  senses.  The 
higher  faculties  have  a  corresponding  joy.  As  there 
is  a  scale  of  faculties  ascending  from  the  sense  of 
touch  and  taste,  the  first  developed  and  most  widely 
spread  in  the  world  of  living  things,  up  to  affection, 
rejoicing  to  delight,  and  to  the  religious  emotions 
which  consciously  connect  us  with  the  Infinite  God ; 
so  there  is  a  corresponding  scale  of  joys,  delight 
rising  above  delight,  from  the  baby  fed  by  his 
mother's  breast  to  the  most  experienced  man,  en- 
larged by  science  and  by  art,  filled  with  a  tranquil 
trust  in  the  infinite  protection  of  the  all-bounteous 
God.  The  higher  the  faculty,  the  more  transcen- 
dent is  its  joy. 


*  This  sermon  was  preached  April  G,  1851,  presently  after  the 
kidnapping  of  Mr.  Sims,  in  Boston,  and  before  his  "  trial "  was 
completed. 


SOURCE   OF   JOY.  267 

The  partial  and  transient  joy  of  any  faculty 
comes  from  the  fractional  and  brief  fulfilment  of 
the  conditions  of  its  nature ;  the  complete  and  per- 
manent joy  of  the  whole  man  comes  from  a  total 
and  continuous  supply  of  the  conditions  of  the 
entire  nature  of  man. 

Now,  for  this  complete  and  lasting  joy,  these  con- 
ditions must  be  thus  fulfilled  for  me  as  an  individ- 
ual, for  my  family,  for  my  neighborhood,  for  the 
nation,  and  for  the  world,  else  my  joy  is  not  com- 
plete ;  for  though  I  can  in  thought  for  a  moment 
abstract  myself  from  the  family,  society,  nation,  and 
from  all  mankind,  it  is  but  for  a  moment.  Practi- 
cally I  am  bound  up  with  all  the  world  ;  an  integer 
indeed,  but  a  fraction  of  mankind.  I  cannot  enjoy 
my  daily  bread  because  of  the  hunger  of  the  men  I 
fain  would  feed.  I  am  not  wholly  and  long  de- 
lighted with  a  book  relating  some  new  wonder  of 
science,  or  offering  me  some  jewelled  diadem  of 
literary  art,  because,  I  think  straightway  of  the 
thousand  brother  men  in  this  town  to  whom  even 
the  old  wonders  of  science  and  the  ancient  diadems 
of  literary  art  are  all  unknown.  The  morsel  that  I 
eat  alone  is  not  sweet,  because  the  fatherless  has 
not  eaten  it  with  me.  Yet  we  all  desire  this  com- 
plete joy  ;  we  are  not  content  without  it  ;  I  feel 
it  belongs  to  me,  to  all  men,  as  individuals  and  as 
fractions  of  society.     When  mankind  comes  of  age, 


268  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

he  must  enter  on  this  estate.  The  very  desire 
thereof  shows  it  is  a  part  of  the  Divine  plan  of 
the  world,  for  each  natural  desire  has  the  means  to 
satisfy  it  put  somewhere  in  the  universe,  and  there 
is  a  mutual  attraction  between  the  two,  which  at 
last  must  meet.  Natural  desire  is  the  prophecy  of 
satisfaction. 

Look  over  the  bountiful  distribution  of  joy  in  the 
world.  It  abounds  in  the  lower  walks  of  creation. 
The  young  fish,  you  shall  even  now  find  on  the 
shallow  beaches  of  some  sheltered  Atlantic  bay,  how 
happy  they  are !  Voiceless,  dwelling  in  the  cold 
unsocial  element  of  water,  moving  with  the  flapping 
of  the  sea,  and  never  still  amid  the  ocean  waves'  im- 
measurable laugh,  —  how  delighted  are  these  little 
children  of  God  !  Their  life  seems  one  continuous 
holiday,  the  shoal  waters  a  play-ground.  Their  food 
is  plenteous  as  the  water  itself.  Society  is  abun- 
dant, and  of  the  most  unimpeachable  respectability. 
They  have  their  little  child's  games  which  last  all 
day.  No  one  is  hungry,  ill-mannered,  ill-dressed, 
dyspeptic,  love-lorn,  or  melancholy.  They  fear  no 
hell.  These  cold,  white-fleshed,  and  bloodless  little 
atomies  seem  ever  full  of  joy  as  they  can  hold ;  wise 
without  study,  learned  enough  with  no  book  or 
school,  and  well  cared  for  amid  their  own  neglect. 
They  recollect  no  past,  they  provide  for  no  future, 


SOURCE    OF   JOY.  269 

the  great  God  of  the  ocean  their  only  memory  or 
forethought.  These  little,  short-lived  minnows  are 
to  me  a  sermon  eloquent ;  they  are  a  psalm  to  God, 
above  the  loftiest  hymnings  of  Theban  Pindar,  or  of 
the  Hebrew  king. 

On  the  land,  see  the  joy  of  the  insects  just  now 
coming  into  life.  The  new-born  butterfly,  who 
begins  his  summer  life  to-day,  how  joyous  he  is  in 
his  claret-colored  robe,  so  daintily  set  off  with  a  sil- 
ver edge !  No  Pharisee,  enlarging  the  borders  of 
his  garments,  getting  greetings  in  the  markets  and 
the  uppermost  seat  at  feasts,  and  called  of  men 
"  Rabbi,"  is  ever  so  brimful  of  glee  as  our  little 
silver-bordered  fly.  He  has  a  low  seat  in  the  uni- 
verse, for  he  is  only  a  butterfly  ;  but  to  him  it  is 
good  as  the  uppermost ;  and  in  the  sunny,  sheltered 
spots  in  the  woods,  with  brown  leaves  about  him, 
and  the  promise  of  violets  and  five-fingers  by  and 
by,  the  great  sun  gently  greets  him,  and  the  dear 
God  continually  says  to  this  son  of  a  worm,  "  Come 
up  higher ! " 

The  adventurous  birds  that  have  just  come  to 
visit  us,  how  delighted  they  are,  and  of  a  bright 
morning  how  they  tell  their  joy  !  each  robin  and 
blackbird  waking,  not  with  a  dry  mouth  and  a 
parched  tongue,  but  with  a  bosom  full  of  morning 
psalms  to  gladden  the  day  with  "  their  sweet  jargon- 
ing."     What  a  cheap  luxury  they  pick  up  in  the 


270  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

fields  ;  and  in  a  clear  sunrise  and  a  warm  sky  find  a 
delight  which  makes  the  pomp  of  Nebuchadnezzar 
seem  ridiculous ! 

Even  the  reptiles,  the  cold  snake,  the  bunchy  and 
calumniated  toad,  the  frog,  now  newly  wakened 
from  his  hybernating  sleep,  have  a  joy  in  their  ex- 
istence which  is  complete  and  seems  perfect.  How 
that  long  symbol  of  "  the  old  enemy "  basks  de- 
lighted in  the  sun !  In  the  idle  days  which  in  child- 
hood I  once  had,  I  have  seen,  as  I  thought,  the  gos- 
pel of  God's  love  written  in  the  life  of  this  reptile, 
for  whom  Christians  have  such  a  mythological 
hatred,  but  whom  the  good  God  blesses  with  a  new, 
shining  skin  every  year,  —  written  more  clearly  than 
even  Nazarene  Jesus  could  tell  the  tale.  No  won- 
der !  it  was  the  dear  God  who  wrote  His  gospel  in 
that  scroll.  How  joyously  the  frogs  welcome  in  the 
spring,  which  knocks  at  the  icy  door  of  their  dwell- 
ing, and  rouses  them  to  new  life  !  What  delight 
have  they  in  their  thin,  piping  notes  at  this  time, 
and  in  the  hoarse  thunders  wherewith  they  will 
shake  the  bog  in  weeks  to  come ;  in  their  wooing 
and  their  marriage  song  ! 

The  young  of  all  animals  are  full  of  delight. 
God  baptizes  his  new-born  children  of  the  air,  the 
land,  the  sea,  with  joy ;  admits  them  to  full  com- 
munion in  his  great  church,  where  He  that  taketh 
thought  for   oxen  suffers  no  sparrow  to  fall  to  the 


SOUKCE    OF   JOY.  271 

ground  without  his  fatherly  love.  A  new  lamb,  or 
calf,  or  colt,  just  opening  its  eyes  on  the  old  world, 
is  happy  as  fabled  Adam  in  his  Eden.  With  what 
sportings,  and  friskings,  and  frolickings  do  all  young 
animals  celebrate  their  Advent  and  Epiphany  in  the 
world  of  time!  As  they  grow  older,  they  have  a 
wider  and  a  wiser  joy,  —  the  delight  of  the  passions 
and  the  affections,  to  apply  the  language  of  men  to 
the  consciousness  of  the  cattle.  It  takes  the  form, 
not  of  rude  leapings,  but  of  quiet  cheerfulness.  The 
matronly  cow,  ruminating  beside  her  playful  and 
hornless  little  one,  is  a  type  of  quiet  joy  and  entire 
satisfaction,  —  all  her  nature  clothed  in  well-befit- 
ting happiness. 

Even  animals  that  we  think  austere  and  sad,  — 
the  lonely  hawk,  the  solitary  jay,  who  loves  New 
England  winters,  and  the  innumerable  shellfish, — 
have  their  personal  and  domestic  joy,  well  known  to 
their  intimate  acquaintances.  The  toad  whom  we 
vilify  as  ugly,  and  even  call  venomous,  malicious, 
and  spiteful,  is  a  kind  neighbor,  and  seems  as  con- 
tented as  the  day  is  long.  So  is  it  with  the  spider, 
who  is  not  the  malignant  kidnapper  that  he  is 
thought,  but  has  a  little,  harmless  world  of  joy.  A 
stream  of  welfare  flows  from  end  to  end  of  their 
little  life,  —  not  very  broad,  not  very  deep,  but  wide 
and  deep  enough  to  bathe  their  every  limb,  and 
bring  contentment  and  satisfaction  to  each  want. 


272  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

Did  not  the  same  God  who  pours  out  the  light  from 
yonder  golden  sun,  and  holds  all  the  stars  in  his 
leash  of  love,  make  and  watch  over  the  smallest  of 
these  creatures  ?  Nay,  He  who  leaves  not  forsaken 
Jesus  alone  never  deserts  the  spider  and  the  toad. 

Wait  a  few  weeks  and  go  into  the  fields,  of  a 
warm  day,  at  morning,  noon,  or  night,  and  all  crea- 
tion is  a-hum  with  happiness,  the  young  and  old, 
the  reptile,  insect,  beast,  and  fowls  of  heaven,  rejoice 
in  their  brave  delight.  All  about  us  is  full  of  joy, 
fuller  than  we  notice.  Take  a  handful  of  water 
from  the  rotting  timbers  of  a  wharf ;  little  polyps  are 
therein,  medusas  and  the  like,  with  few  senses,  few 
faculties  ;  but  they  all  swim  in  a  tide  of  joy,  and  it 
seems  as  if  the  world  was  made  for  them  alone ;  for 
them  the  tide  ebbs  and  flows,  for  them  the  winter 
goes,  the  summer  comes,  and  the  universe  subsists 
for  them  alone. 

Some  men  tell  us  that,  at  the  other  extreme  of 
the  scale,  those  vast  bodies,  the  suns  and  satellites, 
have  also  a  consciousness  and  a  delight ;  that  "  in 
reason's  ear  they  all  rejoice."  But  that  is  poetry. 
Not  in  reason's,  but  fancy's  ear  do  they  rejoice. 
The  rest  is  fact,  plain  prose. 

All  animate  creatures  in  their  natural  condition 
have,  it  is  true,  their  woes  ;  but  they  are  brief  in 
time,  little  in  quantity,  and  soon  forgot.  When  you 
look  microscopically  and  telescopically  at  the  natu- 


SOURCE  OF  JOY.  273 

ral  suffering  in  the  world  of  animals,  you  find  it  is 
just  enough  to  tie  the  girdle,  and  hold  the  little  crea- 
ture together,  and  keep  him  from  violating  his  own 
individual  being ;  or  else  to  unite  the  tribe  and  keep 
them  from  violating  their  social  being.  So  it  seems 
only  the  girdle  of  the  individual  of  the  flock,  and  no 
more  an  evil,  when  thus  looked  at,  than  the  bruises 
we  get  in  our  essays  to  walk.  Suffering  marks  the 
outer  limit  of  the  narrow  margin  of  oscillation  left 
for  the  caprice  of  the  individual  animal  or  man, — 
the  pain  a  warning  to  mark  the  bound. 

A  similar  joy  appears  in  young  children  well  born 
and  well  nurtured.  But  the  human  power  of  error, 
though  still  not  greater  in  proportion  to  our  greater 
nature,  is  so  much  more,  and  man  so  little  subordi- 
nate to  his  instincts,  that  we  have  wandered  far 
from  the  true  road  of  material  happiness.  So  the 
new-born  child  comes  trailing  the  errors  of  his 
ancestry  behind  him  at  his  birth.  Still,  the  healthy 
child,  wisely  cared  for,  though  tethered  with  such  a 
brittle  chain  of  being,  is  no  exception  to  the  general 
rule  of  joy.     He 

"  Is  a  dew-drop  -which  the  morn  brings  forth, 
Not  formed  to  undergo  unkindly  shocks, 
Or  to  be  trailed  along  the  soiling  earth  ;  — 
A  gem  that  glitters  while  it  lives, 
And  no  forewarning  gives, 
But  at  the  touch  of  wrong,  without  a  strife, 
Slips  in  a  moment  out  of  life." 


274  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

In  the  world  of  adult  men  there  is  much  less  of 
this  joy ;  it  is  not  a  great  river  that  with  mighty 
stream  runs  round  and  round  the  world  of  human 
consciousness,  all  ignorant  of  ebb.  Our  faces  are 
care-stricken,  not  many  joyous ;  most  of  them  look 
as  if  they  had  met  and  felt  the  peltings  of  the  storm, 
and  only  hoped  for  the  rainbow.  The  songs  of  the 
people  are  mostly  sad ;  only  the  savage  in  tropic 
climes  —  subordinate  to  nature,  there  a  gentle  mis- 
tress—  is  blithe  and  gay  as  the  monkeys  and  the 
parrots  in  his  native  grove  of  Africa ;  and  there  his 
joy  is  only  jollity,  the  joy  of  saucy  flesh. 

There  are  two  chief  causes  for  this  lack  of  joy 
with  men.     This  is  one  :  — 

I.  We  have  not  yet  fulfilled  the  necessary  mate- 
rial conditions  thereof.  The  individual  has  not  kept 
the  natural  law,  and  hence  has  some  schism  in  the 
flesh  from  his  intemperance  or  want;  some  schism  in 
the  spirit  from  lack  of  harmony  within  ;  or  there  is 
some  schism  between  him  and  the  world  of  matter, 
he  not  in  unison  with  things  around  ;  he  has  a  mis- 
erable body,  that  goes  stooping  and  feeble,  must  be 
waited  for  and  waited  on,  and,  like  the  rulers  of  the 
Gentiles,  exercises  authority  over  him ;  or  he  lacks 
development  of  spiritual  powers ;  or  else  is  poor,  and 
needs  material  supplies. 

Or  if  the  special  individual  is  right  in  all  these 


SOURCE   OF   JOY.  275 

things,  and  so  might  have  his  personal  joy,  the  mass 
of  men  in  your  neighborhood,  your  nation,  or  the 
world,  are  deficient  in  all  these,  in  body,  mind, 
and  estate,  and  with  your  individual  joy  there  comes 
a  social  grief,  and  so  the  worm  in  the  bud  robs  your 
blossom  of  half  its  fragrant  bloom,  and  hinders  all 
its  fruit.  Man  is  social  not  less  than  personal  ; 
sympathy  is  national,  even  human,  reaching  out  to 
the  ends  of  the  earth ;  and  if  the  hungry  cry  of  those 
who  have  reaped  down  the  world's  harvest  smite 
your  ear,  why,  your  bread  turns  sour,  and  is  bread 
of  affliction.  The  rich  scholar,  with  abundant  time, 
in  his  well-stored  library,  has  the  less  joy  in  his  own 
books  while  he  remembers  there  are  nobler  souls 
that  starve  for  the  crumbs  which  fall  from  his  table, 
or  drudge  at  some  ungrateful  toil  not  meant  for 
them.  The  healthy  doctor,  well  fed  and  nicely  clad, 
cannot  so  steel  his  heart  against  the  ignorance  and 
want  and  pain  he  daily  sees,  that  his  health  and 
table  and  science,  and  rosy  girls,  shall  give  him  the 
same  delight  which  would  come  thereof  in  a  world 
free  from  such  society  of  suffering. 

"  The  clouds  that  gather  round  the  setting  sun 
Do  take  a  sober  coloring  from  an  eye 
That  hath  kept  watch  o'er  man's  mortality." 

Now  the  pain  which  comes  from  this  source,  this 
lack  of  mind,  body,  and  estate  on  the  part  of  the 


276  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

special  individual,  or  of  the  race,  is  all  legitimate 
and  merciful ;  I  would  not  have  it  less.  There  is 
never  too  much  suffering  of  this  sort  in  the  world, 
only  enough  to  teach  mankind  to  live  in  harmony 
with  Nature,  in  concord  with  each  other,  in  unity 
with  God.  Here,  as  in  the  animals,  this  pain  is  but 
the  girdle  round  the  loins  of  you  or  me  to  keep 
the  individual  whole  ;  or  about  the  waist  of  man- 
kind, to  keep  us  all  united  in  one  brotherhood. 
Here,  as  there,  suffering  marks  the  limit  of  our  mar- 
gin of  oscillation,  warns  against  trespass,  and  says, 
"  Pause  and  forbear." 

Yet  we  are  all  seeking  for  this  joy.  Each  man 
needs  it ;  knows  he  needs  it,  yet  needs  it  deeper 
than  he  knows.  So  is  it  with  mankind :  the  com- 
mon heart  by  which  we  live  cries  to  God  for  satis- 
faction of  our  every  need,  and  for  our  natural  joy. 
The  need  thereof  stirs  the  self-love  of  men  to  toil, 
the  sight  of  pain  quickens  the  nobler  man  to  rouse 
his  sluggish  brother  to  end  it  all.  The  sad  expe- 
rience of  the  world  shows  this,  —  that  man  must 
find  his  joy,  not  in  subordinating  himself  to  mat- 
ter, or  to  the  instincts  of  the  flesh,  as  the  beasts  find 
theirs,  or  of  the  weak  to  the  strong,  but  in  subordi- 
nating matter  to  mind,  instinct  to  conscious  reason, 
and  then  coordinating  all  men  into  one  family  of 
religious  love. 

II.    Here  is  the  other  cause.     Much  of  this  lack 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  277 

of  joy  comes  from  false  notions  of  religion,  —  false 
ideas  of  God,  of  man,  and  of  the  relation  between 
the  two.  We  are  bid  to  think  it  wicked  to  be  joy- 
ous. In  the  common  opinion  of  churches,  a  relig- 
ious man  must  be  a  sad  man,  his  tears  become  his 
meat.  Men  who  in  our  day  are  eminent  "  leaders 
of  the  churches  "  are  not  joyous  men  ;  their  faces 
are  grim  and  austere,  not  marked  with  manly  de- 
light. Some  men  are  sad  at  sight  of  the  want,  the 
pain,  and  the  misdirection  of  men.  It  was  unavoid- 
able that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  should  ofttimes  be 
"  exceeding  sorrowful."  He  must  indeed  weep  over 
Jerusalem.  The  Apostles,  hunted  from  city  to  city, 
might  be  excused  for  sadness.  For  centuries  the 
Christian  Church  had  reason  to  be  a  sad  Church. 
Persecution  made  our  New  England  fathers  stern 
and  sour  men,  and  their  form  of  religion  caught  a 
stain  from  their  history.  I  see  why  this  is  so,  and 
blame  no  man  for  it.  It  was  once  unavoidable. 
But  now  it  is  a  great  mistake  to  renounce  the  nat- 
ural joy  of  life  ;  above  all,  to  renounce  it  in  the 
name  of  God.  No  doubt  it  takes  the  whole  human 
race  to  represent  in  history  the  whole  of  Human 
Nature  ;  but  if  the  "  Church,"  that  is  theological 
men,  make  a  mock  at  joy,  then  the  "  world  "  will  go 
to  excess  in  the  opposite  extreme.  Men  in  whom  the 
religious  and  moral  powers  are  not  developed  in  pro- 
portion with  the   intellectual,  the    aesthetic,  or  the 

24 


278  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

physical  appetites,  will  try  to  possess  this  joy,  and 
without  religion.  But  nothing  is  long  fruitful  of  de- 
light when  divorced  from  the  consciousness  of  God  ; 
nothing  thrives  that  is  at  enmity  with  God.  Such 
joy  is  poor,  heartless,  and  unsatisfying.  Men  in 
churches  set  up  a  Magdalen,  a  nun,  a  monk,  a  her- 
mit, or  a  priest,  as  a  representative  of  religion.  Men 
out  of  churches  want  joy ;  they  will  flee  off  where 
they  can  find  it,  and  leave  religion  behind  them. 
Yet  joy  without  religion  is  but  a  poor,  wandering 
Hagar,  her  little  water  spent,  her  bread  all  gone,  and 
no  angel  to  marshal  the  way  to  the  well  where  she 
shall  drink  and  feed  her  fainting  child,  and  say, 
Thou,  God,  seest  me  ! 

There  is  little  joy  in  the  ecclesiastical  conscious- 
ness of  religion.  Writers  and  preachers  of  Chris- 
tianity commonly  dwell  on  the  dark  side  of  human 
nature.  They  tell  us  of  our  weakness,  not  of  our 
ability  to  be  and  to  do.  They  mourn  and  scold 
over  human  folly,  human  sin,  human  depravity, 
often  leaving  untold  the  noble  deeds  of  man  and 
his  nobler  powers.     "  Man  is  a  worm,"  say  they. 

They  do  the  same  with  God.  They  paint  him  as 
a  king,  not  as  a  father;  and  as  a  king  who  rules 
by  low  and  selfish  means,  for  low  and  selfish  ends, 
from  low  and  selfish  motives,  and  with  a  most 
melancholy  result  of  his  ruling.     According  to  the 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  279 

common  opinion  of  the  Christian  churches,  God's 
is  the  most  unsuccessful  despotism  that  has  ever 
been  set  agoing,  leading  to  the  eternal  ruin  of  the 
immense  majority  of  his  subjects,  as  the  result  of 
the  absolute  selfishness  of  the  theological  deity.  In 
the  theology  called  Christian  the  most  conspicuous 
characteristics  of  God  are  great  force,  great  self- 
esteem,  and  immense  destructiveness.  He  is 
painted  as  cruel,  revengeful,  and  without  mercy, — 
the  grimmest  of  the  gods.  The  heathen  devils  all 
glower  at  us  through  the  mask  of  the  theological 
God.  The  Mexicans  worshipped  an  idea  of  God, 
to  which  they  sacrificed  hundreds  of  captives  and 
criminals.  Christian  divines  tell  us  of  a  God  that 
will  not  kill,  but  torment  in  hell  the  greater  portion 
of  his  children,  and  will  feed  fat  his  "  glory  "  with 
the  damnation  of  mankind,  the  everlasting  sacri- 
fice of  each  ruined  soul!  If  men  think  that  man 
is  a  worm,  and  God  has  lifted  the  heavenly  heel 
to  give  him  a  squelch  which  shall  last  for  ever,  the 
relation  between  God  and  man  is  certainly  not 
pleasant  for  us  to  think  of. 

God  is  thought  a  hard  creditor,  man  a  poor 
debtor ;  "  religion "  is  the  sum  he  is  to  pay ;  so 
he  puts  that  down  grudgingly,  and  with  the  stin- 
giest fist.  Or  else  God  is  painted  as  a  grim  and 
awful  judge,  man  a  poor,  trembling  culprit,  shiver- 


280  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

ing  before  his  own  conscience,  and  slinking  down 
for  fear  of  the  vengeance  of  the  awful  judge,  hell 
gaping  underneath  his  feet.  Does  any  one  doubt 
this  ?  Let  him  read  the  Book  of  Revelation,  or  the 
writings  of  John  Calvin,  of  Baxter,  or  Edwards 
or  even  of  Jeremy  Taylor.  The  theological  God  is 
mainly  a  great  devil,  and  as  the  theological  devil 
hates  "believers,"  whom  he  seeks  to  devour,  so 
the  theological  God  hates  "  unbelievers,"  and  seeks 
successfully  to  devour  them,  gnawed  upon  eternally 
in  hell.  In  general,  theological  books  represent 
God  as  terrible.  They  make  religion  a  melancholy 
sort  of  thing,  unnatural  to  man,  which  he  would 
escape  from  if  he  dared,  or  if  he  could.  It  is  sel- 
dom spoken  of  as  a  thing  good  in  itself,  but  valu- 
able to  promote  order  on  the  earth,  and  help  men 
to  get  "  saved  "  and  obtain  a  share  of  eternal  happi- 
ness. It  is  not  a  joy,  but  a  burthen,  which  some 
men  are  to  be  well  and  eternally  paid  for  bearing 
in  the  heat  of  the  mortal  day.  Yes,  to  the  major- 
ity of  men  it  is  represented  as  of  no  use  at  all  in 
their  present  or  future  condition ;  for  if  a  man  has 
not  Christianity  enough  to  purchase  a  share  in 
heaven,  his  religion  is  a  useless  load,  —  only  a  tor- 
ment on  earth,  and  of  no  value  at  all  in  the  next 
life !  What  is  the  use  of  religion  to  men  in  eter- 
nal   torment  ?     So,    by  the    showing    of   the   most 


SOURCE   OF   JOY.  281 

respectable  theologians,  religion  can  bring  no  joy, 
save  to  the  "  elect,"  who  are  but  a  poor  fraction  of 
mankind,  and  commonly  exhibit  little  of  it  here. 

The  general  tone  of  writings  called  religious  is 
sad  and  melancholy.  Religion  adorns  her  brow 
with  yellow  leaves  smitten  by  the  frost,  not  with 
rosebuds  and  violets.  The  leading  men  in  the 
more  serious  churches  are  earnest  persons,  self- 
denying,  but  grim,  unlovely,  and  joyless  men. 
Look  through  the  ecclesiastial  literature  of  the 
Christian  world,  —  it  is  chiefly  of  this  sad  com- 
plexion. The  branches  of  the  theological  tree  are 
rough  and  thorny,  not  well  laden  with  leaves,  and 
of  blossoms  it  has  few  that  are  attractive.  It  was 
natural  enough  that  the  Christians,  when  perse- 
cuted and  trodden  down,  should  weep  and  wail  in 
their  literature.  In  the  first  three  centuries  they 
do  so  ;  —  in  every  period  of  persecution.  The  dark 
shades  of  the  New  England  forest  lowered  over 
New  England  theology,  and  Want  and  War  knit 
their  ugly  brows  in  the  meeting-houses  of  the  day. 
But  the  same  thing  continued,  and  it  lasts  still. 
Now  it  is  the  habit  of  Christendom,  though  some- 
times it  seems  only  a  trick. 

In  what  is  called  Christian  literature  nothing 
surprises  you  more  than  the  absence  of  joy.  There 
is  much  of  the  terror  of  religion,  little  of  its  de- 
lights.    Look  over  the   list   of  sermons    of   South, 

24* 


282  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

Edwards,  Chalmers,  Hopkins,  Emmons,  even  of 
Jeremy  Taylor,  and  you  find  few  sermons  on 
the  joys  of  religion.  The  same  is  true  of  Mas- 
sillon,  of  Bourdaloue,  and  Bossuet.  The  popular 
ecclesiastical  notion  of  religion  is  not  to  be  repreT 
sented  as  a  wife  and  mother,  cheerful,  contented, 
and  happy  in  her  work,  but  as  a  reluctant  nun, 
abstracted,  idle,  tearful,  and  with  a  profound  mel- 
ancholy; not  the  melancholy  which  <comes  from 
seeing  actual  evils  we  know  not  how  to  cure, — 
the  sadness  of  one  strong  to  wish  and  will,  but 
feeble  to  achieve; — no,  the  more  incurable  sad- 
ness which  comes  from  a  distrust  of  Nature  and  of 
vGod,  and  from  the  habit  of  worrying  about  the 
soul,  —  the  melancholy  of  fear  ;  not  the  melancholy 
which  looks  sadly  on  misery  and  crime,  which 
wept  out  its  "  O  Jerusalem !  Jerusalem !  "  but  the 
sadness  which  whines  in  a  corner,  and  chews  its 
own  lips  from  sheer  distrust. 

The  writers  who  dwell  on  the  joys  of  religion 
too  often  have  very  inadequate  ideas  thereof.  For 
they  all,  from  Augustine  to  Chalmers,  start  with 
the  idea  that  God  is  imperfect,  and  not  wholly  to  be 
trusted.  Accordingly  they  seek  and  obtain  but  a 
very  one-sided  development  of  their  nature,  thinking 
they  must  sacrifice  so  much  of  it ;  and  hence  have 
not  that  strength  of  religious  character,  nor  that 
wholeness  thereof,  which  is  necessary  to  complete 
manly  joy  in  religion. 


SOURCE    OF  JOY.  283 

Such  being  the  case,  fear  of  God    predominates 

over  love  of  Him  ;  trust  of  God  is  only  special  under 

such  and  such  circumstances,  not  universal  under  all 

circumstances ;  and  religious  joy  is  thin,  and  poor, 

.and  cold. 

You  find  mention  of  religious  joy  in  some  of  the 
great.  Christian  writers,  especially  among  the  mys- 
tics, in  Tauler  and  Kempis,  Scougal,  Fenelon, 
William  Law,  and  Jacob  Behme,  not  to  mention 
others.  Even  Bunyan  has  his  delectable  moun- 
tains, and  though  in  the  other  world,  the  light  there- 
from shines  serene  and  joyous  along  the  paths  of 
mortal  life.  But  in  most,  if  not  in  all,  of  these  writ- 
ers, religious  joy  is  deemed  an  artificial  privilege, 
reserved  by  God's  decree  for  only  a  few,  purchased 
by  unnatural  modes  of  life,  and  miraculously  be- 
stowed. Even  in  greathearted  Martin  Luther,  one 
of  the  most  joyous  of  men,  it  is  not  a  right  which 
belongs  to  human  nature,  and  comes  naturally  from 
the  normal  action  of  the  faculties  of  man ;  it  is  the 
result  of  "  divine  grace,"  not  of  human  nature. 
Thus  this  religious  joy  of  the  churches  is  often 
hampered  and  restricted,  and  the  man  must  be 
belittled  before  he  is  capable  thereof.  In  the  ecclesi- 
astical saint  there  is  always  something  sneaking; 
some  manly  quality  is  left  out,  or  driven  out,  some 
unmanly  quality  forced  in.  I  believe  this  has  been 
so  in  all  ages  of  Christianity,  and  in  all  Christian 


284  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

sects  at  this  day.  Study  the  character  and  history  of 
the  saints  of  the  Catholic  and  Protestant  churches. 
Look  at  their  mode  of  life,  their  sources  and  forms 
of  joy.  You  see  it  is  so.  They  must  turn  Human 
Nature  out  of  doors  before  the  Divine  Nature  can 
come  in.  So  the  heavenly  bridegroom,  adorned  for 
his  wife,  comes  to  a  house  swept  and  garnished  in- 
deed, but  cheerless,  empty,  and  cold,  only  theologi- 
cal furniture  left  in,  the  bride  herself  swept  out. 
Look  at  the  marbles  of  antiquity,  —  at  the  face  of 
pagan  Plato,  of  Aristotle,  "  the  master  of  such  as 
know,"  —  or  at  the  faces  of  modern  philosophers, 
and  compare  them  with  the  actual  or  ideal  counte- 
nance of  Christian  saints,  —  with  Saint  Francis, 
with  Saint  Thomas,  with  Ignatius  Loyola,  with  the 
ideal  Magdalens  and  Madonnas  of  art,  or  with  the 
dark,  sad,  and  woe-stained  faces  of  the  leading 
clergy  of  the  predominant  sects,  —  and  you  see  at 
once  the  absence  of  natural  delight. 

Religion  is  often  separated  from  common  life. 
So  a  sharp  distinction  is  made  between  the  "  flesh  " 
and  the  "  spirit."  The  flesh  is  all  sinful,  all  that 
belongs  to  it  thought  poor,  and  mean,  and  low ;  to 
taste  the  joys  of  piety,  the  senses  must  be  fettered 
and  put  in  jail,  and  then,  where  theology  has  made 
a  solitude,  it  proclaims  peace.  On  the  one  side  is 
the  "  world,"  on  the  other  "  religion  ;  "  and  there  is 
a  great  gulf  fixed  between  the  two,  which  neither 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  285 

Dives,  nor  Lazarus,  nor  yet  Abraham,  can  pass 
over.  Here  all  the  delight  is  in  "  things  temporal ;  " 
there  the  delight  is  only  in  "  things  eternal." 
Worldly  men  have  their  delight  in  the  things  of 
this  world,  and  no  more ;  heavenly  men,  only  in  the 
joys  of  the  next  life  ;  and  they  who  have  the  worst 
time  here  shall  have  the  best  hereafter.  Religion  is 
thought  out  of  place  at  a  ball,  at  a  theatre,  at  any 
amusement  ;  dancing  is  thought  more  than  half  a 
sin.  Religion  loves  funerals,  is  seldom  at  a  wedding, 
—  only  to  sadden  the  scene,  —  for  woman  is  bid  to 
be  ashamed  of  natural  human  love,  and  man  of  be- 
ing loved.  "  We  are  conceived  in  sin,"  quoth  the- 
ology ;  "  the  '  God-man '  was  born  with  no  human 
father." 

It  seems  commonly  thought  that  the  joys  of  relig- 
ion are  inconsistent  with  active  daily  life.  Men 
who  have  written  thereof  are  ehiefly  ascetic  and 
romantic  persons  of  retired  lives,  of  shy  habits ;  they 
prefer  thought  to  work,  passive  contemplation  to 
active  meditation,  and  dreamy  sentimentalism  to  all 
other  and  manlier  joys.  The  natural  result  of  this 
ecstasy,  not  the  normal  activity  of  the  whole  man, 
but  irregular,  extravagant,  and  insane  action  of  a 
few  noble  powers.  Hence  those  writings  are  not 
wholesome  ;  the  air  they  exhale  is  close  and  un- 
healthy, for  such  pietism  is  the  sickness  of  the  soul, 
not  its  soundness  and  its  health. 


286  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

I  believe  what  I  say  will  apply  to  almost  the 
whole  class  of  writers  on  sentimental  religion,  —  to 
the  mystical  writers  of  the  Brahminic,  Buddhistic, 
Christian,  and  Mahometan  sects.  He  must  be  a 
whole  man  who  writes  a  sound  book  on  a  theme  so 
deep  as  the  religious  joys  of  man,  —  his  delight  in 
Nature,  in  man,  and  in  God.  But  the  false  ideas 
of  the  popular  theory  corrupt  the  faculties  of  noble 
and  great  men.  So,  in  the  writings  of  Law  and 
Fenelon,  of  Taylor  and  Henry  More,  you  find  this 
unhealthiness  pervading  what  they  do  and  say. 
There  is  much  you  sympathize  in,  but  much  also 
which  offends  a  nice  taste,  and  revolts  the  reason, 
the  affections,  and  all  the  high  faculties  of  a  sound 
man.  You  may  see  the  excess  of  this  unhealthiness 
in  the  works  of  St.  Bridget  or  of  St.  Theresa,  in 
Molinos  and  Swedenborg,  even  in  Taylor,  in  Fene- 
lon, and  Augustine ;  in  the  dreams  and  fancied  reve- 
lations of  monks  and  nuns,  when  nature  clamored 
for  her  rights,  or  in  the  sermons  and  prayers  of  ascet- 
ic clergymen,  whom  a  false  idea  of  God  and  relig- 
ion has  driven  to  depravity  of  body  and  sickness  of 
the  soul. 

We  may  see  the  effects  of  this  false  idea  on  the 
conduct  and  character  of  active  men  in  a  Methodist 
camp-meeting ;  or  in  a  form  yet  more  painful,  in  the 
pinched  faces,  and  narrow,  unnatural  foreheads  of 


SOURCE   OF   JOY.  287 

men  and  women  early  caught  and  imprisoned  in 
some  of  the  popular  forms  of  fear  of  God.  I  have 
sometimes  shuddered  to  hear  such  men  talk  of  their 
joy  of  religion,  —  a  joy  unnatural  and  shameful, 
which  delighted  in  the  contemplation  of  torment  as 
the  portion  of  mankind. 

Read  the  life  of  St.  Hugh,  an  Archbishop  of  Ly- 
ons. See  in  what  his  joys  of  religion  consisted.  If 
any  one  spoke  of  news  in  his  presence,  he  checked 
them,  saying,  "  This  life  is  all  given  us  for  w.eeping 
and  penance,  not  for  idle  discourses."  It  was  his 
"  constant  prayer  that  God  would  extinguish  in  his 
heart  all  attachment  to  creatures,  that  His  pure  love 
might  reign  in  all  his  affections."  "  His  love  of 
heavenly  things  made  all  temporal  affairs  seem 
burdensome  and  tedious."  "  Women  he  would 
never  look  in  the  face,  so  that  he  knew  not  the 
features  of  his  own  mother."  He  continually  re- 
cited the  Psalter  and  the  Lord's  Prayer ;  the  latter 
on  one  occasion  "  three  hundred  times  in  a  single 
night ! " 

In  saying  all  this,  I  do  not  wish  to  blame  men. 
I  would  rather  write  an  apology  for  the  religious 
errors  of  Pagans  or  Christians,  than  a  satire  there- 
on. I  only  mention  the  fact.  It  is  not  a  strange 
one,  for  we  find  analogous  errors  in  the  history  of 
every  department  of  human  affairs.  What  dreams 
of  astrologers  and  alchemists  came  before  the  cool, 


288  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

sober  thought  of  chemists  and  astronomers !  The 
mistakes  in  religion  are  not  greater  in  proportion  to 
the  strength  of  the  religious  faculty  and  the  great- 
ness of  the  interest  at  stake,  than  the  mistakes  in 
agriculture  or  politics.  The  theology  of  Boston  is 
not  much  worse  than  its  "  law  and  order  "  just  now ; 
and  they  who  in  pulpits,  administer  the  popular 
theology,  are  not  much  more  mistaken  than  they 
who,  in  courts  and  jails,  administer  the  public  law. 
But  int religion  these  mistaken  notions  have  been  so 
common,  that  the  very  name  of  religious  joy  is  asso- 
ciated with  superstition,  bigotry,  extravagance,  mad- 
ness. You  attend  a  meeting  "  for  conference  and 
prayer,"  and  you  come  away  a  little  disgusted,  with 
more  pity  than  sympathy  for  the  earnest  men  who 
have  so  mistaken  the  nature  of  God,  of  man,  and  of 
the  relation  between  the  two  ;  who  have  so  erred  as 
to  the  beginning  of  religion,  its  processes  and  its 
result.  You  pass  thence  to  a  meeting  of  philo- 
sophical men  met  for  science,  or  philanthropic  men 
met  for  benevolence,  and  what  a  change  !  Both 
are  equally  earnest ;  but  in  the  one  all  is  hot,  un- 
natural, restricted,  and  presided  over  by  fear ;  in 
the  other  all  is  cool,  all  is  free,  and  there  is  no  fear. 

In  consequence  of  this  abuse,  men  often  slight 
the  sentiment  of  religion,  and  deny  the  real  and 
sober  joy  which  it  naturally  affords.     This  is  a  great 


SOURCE    OF   JOY.  289 

loss,  for,  setting  aside  the  extravagance,  the  claim 
to  miraculous  communion  with  God,  putting  aside 
all  ecstasy,  as  only  the  insanity  of  religious  action, 
it  is  true  that,  in  its  widest  sense  and  in  its  high- 
est form,  religion  is  a  source  of  the  deepest  and 
noblest  joys  of  man.  Let  us  put  away  the  child- 
ish things  and  look  at  the  real  joys  of  manly  relig- 
ion itself. 

A  true  form  of  religion  does  not  interfere  with 
any  natural  delight  of  man.  True  religion  is  nor- 
mal life,  not  of  one  faculty  alone,  but  of  alt  in  due 
coordination.  The  human  consciousness  of  the  In- 
finite God  will  show  itself,  not  merely  in  belief,  or 
prayer  and  thanksgiving,  but  by  the  legitimate  ac- 
tion of  every  limb  of  the  body  and  every  faculty  of 
the  spirit.  Then  all  the  legitimate  appetites  have 
their  place.  Do  you  want  the  natural  gratification 
of  the  body  ?  Religion  bids  you  seek  it  in  the  nat- 
ural and  legitimate  wayr  not  in  a  manner  unnatural 
and  against  the  body's  law.  It  counts  the  body 
sacred,  as  well  as  the  soul,  and  knows  that  a  holy 
spirit  demands  a  holy  flesh.  Thus  it  enhances  even 
the  delights  of  the  body,  by  keeping  every  sense  in 
its  place.  The  actual  commandments  of  God  writ- 
ten on  every  fibre  of  human  flesh,  are  not  less  au- 
thoritative than  the  Ten  which  Jehovah  is  said  to 
have  written  on  stone  at  Sinai, 

25 


290  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

Do  you  seek  the  active  business  of  life  ?  This 
religion  will  bid  you  pursue  your  calling,  hand-craft 
or  head-craft,  and  buy  and  sell  and  get  gain,  the 
Golden  Rule  your  standard  measure,  and  all  your 
daily  work  a  sacrament  whereby  you  communicate 
with  man  and  God.  Do  you  want  riches,  honor, 
fame,  the  applause  of  men  ?  This  religion  tells  you 
to  subordinate  the  low  aim  to  the  high  ;  to  keep 
self-love  in  its  natural  channel  ;  to  preserve  the 
integrity  of  your  own  spirit  ;  and  then,  if  you  will 
and  can,  to  get  riches,  power,  honor,  fame,  and  the 
applause  of  men,  by  honestly  earning  them  all,  so 
that  you  shall  be  the  manlier,  and  mankind  the 
richer,  for  all  that  you  do  and  enjoy.  Then  the  ap- 
probation of  your  own  soul  and  the  sense  of  con- 
cord with  men  and  of  unity  with  God,  will  add 
a  certain  wholeness  to  your  delight  in  the  work  of 
your  hands. 

Do  you  desire  the  joys  of  the  intellect  working 
in  any  or  all  its  manifqld  forms  of  action  ?  The 
world  is  all  before  you  where  to  choose,  and  Prov- 
idence your  guide.  The  law  of  God  says,  "  Of 
every  tree  of  the  field  shalt  thou  eat.  Nothing  that 
is  natural  shall  harm  thee.  Put  forth  thy  hand 
and  try.  Be  not  afraid  that  Truth  or  Search  shall 
ever  offend  God,  or  harm  the  soul  of  man."  Does 
a  new  truth  threaten  an  old  church  ?  It  will  build 
up  ten  new  ones  in  its  stead.     No  man  ever  loved 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  291 

truth  too  much,  or  had  too  much  of  it,  or  was  too 
diligent  in  the  search  therefor.  To  use  the  reason 
for  reasonable  things  is  a  part  of  religion  itself. 
Thus  consciousness  of  God  well  developed  in  man 
gives  greater  joy  to  the  natural  delights  of  the  in- 
tellect itself,  which  it  helps  to  tranquillize  and  render 
strong. 

You  need  the  exercise  of  the  moral  faculties. 
This  religion  will  bid  you  trust  your  own  con- 
science, never  to  fear  to  ask  thereof  for  the  ever- 
lasting right,  and  be  faithful  thereto.  Justice  will 
not  hurt  you,  nor  offend  God ;  and  if  your  justice 
pull  down  the  old  kingdom,  with  its  statutes  of 
selfishness  and  laws  of  sin  and  death,  it  will  build 
up  a  new  and  better  state  in  its  stead,  the  Com- 
monwealth of  Righteousness,  where  the  eternal 
laws  of  God  are  reenacted  into  the  codes  of  men, 
laws  of  love  and  life.  No  man  ever  loved  justice 
too  much,  —  his  own  rights,  or  the  rights  of  men, 
—  or  was  too  faithful  to  his  own  conscience.  Loy- 
alty to  that  is  fealty  to  God ;  and  the  conscious- 
ness of  Him  enhances  the  moral  delight  of  moral 
men,  as  the  intellectual  joy  of  scientific  and  thought- 
ful men. 

Do   you   seek   the  joy    of  the   affections    which 
cling   to   finite   objects   of  attraction,   to   wife  and 


292  CONSCIOUS   KELIGION   AS    A 

child,  brother  and  sister,  parent  and  friend  ?  Re- 
ligion will  tell  you  it  is  impossible  to  love  these 
too  much  ;  that  it  is  impossible  to  be  too  affection- 
ate, or  to  be  too  wise  or  too  just.  No  man  can  be 
too  faithful  to  his  own  heart,  nor  have,  in  general, 
too  much  love.  Love  of  the  "  creature "  is  part  of 
the  service  we  owe  the  Creator;  one  of  the  forms  of 
love  to  God.  Conscious  piety  will  enhance  the  de- 
light of  mortal  affections,  and  will  greaten  and  beau- 
tify every  form  of  love,  —  connubial,  parental,  and 
filial,  friendly  and  philanthropic  love. 

Nay,  all  these  —  the  love  of  truth  and  beauty, 
of  justice  and  right,  of  men  —  are  but  parts  of  the 
great  integral  piety,  the  love  of  God,  the  Author 
of  Truth,  of  Justice,  and  of  Love.  The  normal 
delight  in  God's  world,  the  animal  joy  in  material 
things,  the  intellectual  in  truth  and  beauty,  the 
moral  in  justice  and  right,  the  affectional  delight 
in  the  persons  of  men,  the  satisfactions  of  labor  of 
hand  or  head  or  heart, — all  these  are  a  part  of 
our  large  delight  in  God,  for  religion  is  not  one 
thing  and  life  another,  but  the  two  are  one.  The 
normal  and  conscious  worship  of  the  Infinite  God 
will  enlarge  every  faculty,  enhancing  its  quantity 
and  quality  of  delight. 

Let  me  dwell  yet  longer  on  this  affectional  de- 
light. Last  Sunday  I  spoke  of  the  Increase  of 
Power  which  comes  of  the  religious  use  of  the  fac- 


SOUKCE   OF  JOY.  293 

ulties.  One  form  thereof  I  purposely  passed  by 
and  left  for  this  hour,  —  the  ability  to  love  other 
men.  Religion,  by  producing  harmony  with  your- 
self, concord  with  men,  and  unity  with  God,  pre- 
vents the  excess  of  self-love,  enlarges  the  power  of 
unselfish  affection,  increases  the  quantity  of  love, 
and  so  the  man  has  a  greater  delight  in  the  welfare 
of  other  men. 

I  will  not  say  that  this  religion  increases  the 
powers  of  instinctive  affection,  except  indirectly 
and  in  general,  as  it  enlarges  the  man's  whole 
quantity  of  being,  and  refines  its  quality.  Yet 
much  of  the  power  of  affection  is  not  instinctive, 
but  the  result  of  conscious  and  voluntary  action. 
It  is  not  mere  instinct  which  drives  me  uncon- 
sciously and  bound  to  love  a  friend ;  I  do  it  con- 
sciously, freely,  because  it  suits  the  whole  of  me, 
not  merely  one  impulsive  part.  The  conscious- 
ness of  my  connection  with  God,  of  my  obligation 
to  God,  of  his  Providence  watching  over  all, — 
this,  and  the  effort  to  keep  every  law  He  has  written 
in  my  constitution,  enlarges  my  capability  to  love 
men. 

I  pass  by  connubial  love,  wherein  affection  and 
passion  blend  each  its  several  bloom,  and  there  are 
still  two  other  forms  of  conscious  love.  One  is 
friendship,  the  other  philanthropy. 

In   friendship  I  love   a   man    for    his   good  and 

25* 


294  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

mine  too.  There  is  action  on  both  sides ;  I  take 
•delight  in  him,  but  only  on  condition  that  he  takes 
delight  in  me.  I  ask  much  of  my  friend,  not  only 
gratitude  and  justice,  but  forbearance  and  patience 
towards  me;  —  yes,  sacrifice  of  himself.  I  do  this 
not  selfishly,  not  wilfully.  I  love  my  friend  for 
his  character  and  his  conduct,  for  what  he  is  to 
me  and  I  am  to  him.  My  friendship  is  limited, 
and  does  not  reach  out  so  far  as  justice,  which  has 
the  range  of  the  world.  Who  can  claim  friend- 
ship of  any  one  ?  The  New  England  kidnapper 
has  a  right  to  the  philanthropy  even  of  his  victim  ; 
but  he  seems  to  have  a  right  to  the  friendship 
only  of  pirates  and  men  that  would  assassinate 
the  liberty  of  mankind.  But  no  man  is  wholly 
wicked  and  self-abandoned,  and  so  has  forfeited  all 
claim  to  the  friendship  of  the  noblest;  and  such  is 
the  blessed  wealth  of  the  human  heart,  that  it  con- 
tinually runs  over  with  mercy  for  the  merciless,  and 
love  for  the  unlovely. 

In  philanthropy  I  love  a  man  for  his  sake,  not  at 
all  for  mine.  I  take  the  delight  of  justice  and  of 
charity  in  him,  but  do  not  ask  him  to  take  any  de- 
light in  me.  I  ask  nothing  of  him,  not  even  grati- 
tude, nor  justice ;  perhaps  expect  neither.  I  love 
him  because  he  is  a  man,  and  without  regard  to  his 
character  and  conduct ;  and  would  feed  and  clothe 
and  warm  and  bless  the  murderer,  or  even  the  Bos- 


SOURCE  OF  JOY.  295 

ton  kidnapper.  Philanthropy  makes  its  sun  rise  on 
the  evil  and  on  the  good,  and  sends  its  rain  on  the 
just  and  on  the  unjust.  Its  circle  is  measured  by  its 
power,  not  its  will.  It  is  not  personal,  limited  in  its 
application  to  Robert  or  Marion,  but  universal  as 
justice,  reaching  to  all,  it  joins  the  wayfaring  Samar- 
itan to  his  national  enemy  who  had  fallen  among 
thieves. 

Now  I  wish  to  say  that  religion  enlarges  a  man's 
power  of  friendship  and  of  philanthropy,  and  conse- 
quently enhances  the  delight  of  both.  Look  a  mo- 
ment at  the  joy  of  each. 

The  joy  of  friendship  is  a  deep  and  beautiful  de- 
light. Here  you  receive  as  well  as  give,  get  not 
only  from  yourself,  as  your  unconsciousness  be- 
comes conscious,  and  the  seed  you  planted  for  the 
bread  of  another  becomes  a  perfect  flower  for  your 
own  eye  and  bosom  ;  but  you  receive  from  another 
self.  This  is  one  of  the  dearest  joys  ;  it  is  the  mu- 
tuality of  affection,  your  delight  in  another's  person, 
and  his  delight  in  you ;  it  is  a  reciprocity  of  per- 
sons. There  are  those  we  love  not  with  instinctive 
passion,  as  man  and  wife ;  nor  with  instinctive  affec- 
tion, as  parent  and  child ;  nor  with  the  love  of  phi- 
lanthropy ;  but  with  emotions  of  another  class,  with 
friendly  love.  It  is  delightful  to  do  kind  deeds  for 
such,  and  receive  kind  deeds  from  them.  Not  that 
you  need  or  they  need  the  gift ;  but  both  the  giv- 


296  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

ing.  You  need  to  give  to  them,  they  to  give  to 
you.  Their  very  presence  is  a  still  and  silent  joy. 
After  long  intimacy  of  this  sort,  you  scarce  need 
speech  to  communicate  sympathy ;  the  fellow-feel- 
ing has  a  language  and  tells  its  own  tale.  In  lov- 
ing a  friend,  I  have  all  the  joy  of  self-love  without 
its  limitation.  I  find  my  life  extending  into  another 
being,  his  into  me.  So  I  multiply  my  existence.  If 
I  love  one  man  in  this  way,  and  he  love  me,  I  have 
doubled  my  delight ;  if  I  love  two,  it  is  yet  further 
enlarged.  So  I  live  in  each  friend  I  add  to  myself; 
his  joys  are  mine  and  mine  are  his  ;  there  is  a  soli- 
darity of  affection  between  us,  and  his  material  de- 
lights give  permanent  happiness  to  me.  As  a  man 
enlarges  his  industrial  power  by  material  instru- 
ments, the  wind  and  the  river  joined  to  him  by  skil- 
ful thought,  so  he  enlarges  his  means  of  happiness 
by  each  friend  his  affection  joins  to  him.  A  man 
with  a  forty-friend  power  would  be  a  millionaire  at 
the  treasury  of  love. 

The  joy  of  philanthropy  is  a  high  delight,  worth 
all  the  exaltations  of  St.  Hugh,  and  the  ecstasies  of 
St.  Bridget  and  St.  Theresa.  Compare  it  with  the 
rapture  which  Jonathan  Edwards  anticipates  for  the 
"  elect "  in  heaven,  looking  down  upon  the  damned, 
and  seeing  their  misery,  and  making  "  heaven  ring 
with  the  praises  of  God's  justice  towards  the  wicked, 
and  his  grace  towards  the  saints!"     Such  is  the 


SOUKCE   OF  JOY.  297 

odds  betwixt  the  religion  of  nature  and  the  theology 
of  the  Christian  Church. 

There  is  a  great  satisfaction  in  doing  good  to 
others,  —  to  men  that  you  never  saw,  nor  will  see, 
—  who  will  never  hear  of  you,  but  not  the  less  be 
blessed  by  your  bounty,  —  even  in  doing  good  to 
the  unthankful  and  the  unmerciful.  You  have 
helped  a  poor  woman  in  Boston  out  of  the  want 
and  wretchedness  her  drunken  husband  has  brought 
on  her,  and  rilled  her  house  withal  ;  you  have  deliv- 
ered a  slave  out  of  the  claw  of  the  kidnapper,  the 
"  barbarous  and  heathen  kidnapper  in  Benguela,"  or 
the  "  Christian  and  honorable  kidnapper  in  Boston," 
commissioned,  and  paid  for  the  function  ;  you  have 
taken  some  child  out  of  the  peril  of  the  streets, 
found  him  a  home,  and  helped  him  grow  up  to  be 
a  self-respectful  and  useful  man  ;  —  suppose  the 
poor  woman  shall  never  know  the  name  of  her 
benefactor,  nor  the  slave  of  his  deliverer,  nor  the 
child  of  his  saviour,  —  that  you  get  no  gratitude 
from  the  persons,  no  justice  from  the  public ;  you 
are  thought  a  fool  for  your  charity,  and  a  culprit  for 
your  justice,  the  government  seeking  to  hang  you  ; 
still  the  philanthropy  has  filled  your  bosom  with 
violets  and  lilies,  and  you  run  over  with  the  de- 
light thereof.  You  would  be  ashamed  to  receive 
gratitude,  or  ask  justice.  "  Father,  forgive  them  !  " 
was  the  appropriate  benediction  of  one  of  the  great 


298  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

masters  of  philanthropy.     Do  you  look  for  reciprocal 

affection  ? 

"  I  have  heard  of  hearts  unkind,  kind  deeds 
With  coldness  still  returning ; 
Alas  !  the  gratitude  of  men 
Hath  oftener  left  me  mourning." 

The  good  Samaritan,  leaving  his  "neighbor"  who 
had  fallen  among  thieves  well  cared  for  at  the  inn, 
jogs  home  on  his  mule  with  a  heart  that  kings 
might  envy ;  but  when  he  comes  again,  if  the  man, 
healed  by  his  nursing,  offers  thanks,  —  "  Nay,"  says 
the  Samaritan,  "  nay,  now,  be  still  and  say  nothing 
about  it.  It  is  all  nothing;  only  human  nature.  I 
could  not  help  it.  You  would  do  the  same ! " 
Such  a  man  feeds  his  affection  by  such  deeds  of 
love,  till  he  has  the  heart  of  God  in  his  bosom,  and 
a  whole  paradise  of  delight.  Meantime  the  Priest 
and  the  Levite  have  hastened  to  the  temple,  and 
offered  their  sacrifice,  tithed  their  mint,  their  anise, 
and  their  cumin,  made  broad  their  phylacteries  and 
enlarged  the  borders  of  their  garments,  and  dropped 
with  brassy  ring-  their  shekels  in  the  temple  chest, 
shoving  aside  the  poor  widow  with  her  two  mites, 
which  make  a  farthing ;  now  they  stand  before  the 
seven  golden  candlesticks  and  pray,  "  Father,  I 
thank  Thee  that  I  am  not  like  other  men,  who  trust 
in  good  works  and  the  light  of  nature;  I  give  tithes 
of  all  that  I  possess.     I  thank  Thee  that  I  am  one 


SOURCE    OF   JOY.  299 

of  Thine  Elect,  and  shall  have  glory  when  this 
Samaritan  goeth  down  to  the  pit." 

I  once  knew  a  little  boy  in  the  country,  whose 
father  gave  him  a  half-dime  to  help  the  sufferers 
at  a  fire  in  New  Brunswick ;  the  young  lad  dropped 
his  mite  into  the  box  at  church,  —  it  was  his  earli- 
est alms,  —  with  a  deep  delight  which  sweetened 
his  consciousness  for  weeks  to  come  with  the 
thought  of  the  good  that  his  five  cents  would  do. 
What  were  all  sweetmeats  and  dainties  to  this  ? 
Our  little  boy's  mother  had  told  him  that  the  good 
God  loved  actions  such  as  these,  Himself  dropping 
the  sun  and  moon  into  the  alms-box  of  the  world ; 
and  the  grave,  sober  father,  who  had  earned  the 
silver  with  serious  sweat,  his  broadaxe  ringing  in 
the  tough  oak  of  New  England,  brushed  a  tear 
out  of  his  eye  at  seeing  the  son's  delight  in  helping 
men  whom  none  of  the  family  had  ever  seen. 

Philanthropy  begins  small,  and  helps  itself  along, 
sometimes  by  love  of  sheep  and  oxen,  and  dogs 
and  swine.  Did  not  the  great  Jesus  ride  into  the 
holy  city  "on  the  foal  of  an  ass"?  By  and  by 
our  philanthropist  goes  out  to  widest  circles,  makes 
great  sacrifice  of  comfort,  of  money,  of  reputation ; 
his  philanthropic  power  continually  grows,  and  an 
inundation  of  delight  fills  up  his  mighty  soul. 
The  shillings  which  a  poor  girl  pays  for  mission- 
aries to  Burmah   and  Guinea   are    shillings   which 


300  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

bring  more  delight  than  all  the  gewgaws  they  could 
buy. 

I  have  seen  a  man  buy  baskets  of  cherries  in  a 
foreign  town,  and  throw  them  by  handfuls  to  the 
little  boys  and  girls  in  the  streets  wholly  unknown 
to  him.  He  doubtless  got  more  joy  from  that, 
than  if  he  had  had  the  appetite  of  a  miser,  and 
stomach  enough  to  eat  up  all  the  cherries  in  the 
valley  of  the  Rhine.  Men  of  wealth,  who  use 
money  for  philanthropy,  to  feed  the  poor,  to  build 
hospitals  and  asylums,  schools  and  colleges,  get 
more  joy  from  this  use  thereof,  than  if  they  had 
the  pecuniary  swallow  and  stomach  of  a  gigantic 
miser,  and  themselves  eat  up  the  schools  and  col- 
leges, the  hospitals  and  asylums,  which  others  built. 
They  who  build  widows'  houses,  not  they  who 
devour  them,  have  the  most  joy  thereof. 

The  man  who  devotes  the  larger  wealth  of  the 
mind,  reason,  understanding,  imagination,  with  all 
the  treasures  of  culture  and  the  graceful  dignity 
of  eloquence,  to  serve  some  noble  cause,  despised 
as  yet,  and  sacrifices  not  money  alone,  but  reputa- 
tion? and  takes  shame  as  outward  recompense  for 
truth  and  justice  and  love,  —  think  you  that  he  has 
less  delight  than  the  worldly  man  well  gifted,  cul- 
tivated well,  whose  mind  lies  a  prostitute  to  the 
opinion  of  the  mob,  and  is  tricked  off  with  the 
ornaments  of  shame,  and  in  office  shines  "  the  first 


SOURCE    OP  JOY.  301 

of  bartered  jades "  ?  Look  about  you  in  Boston,, 
and  answer,  ye  that  know!  Go  to  the  men  who. 
sacrifice  their  intellect,  their  conscience,  their  affec- 
tions, for  place  and  a  name,  ask  them  what  they 
have  got  in  exchange  for  their  soul?  and  then  go 
to  such  as  have  left  all  for  God  and  his  law,  and 
ask  them  of  their  reward. 

Now  religion  enlarges  this  capacity  for  both 
friendship  and  philanthropy,  and  so  the  quantity  of 
joy  which  comes  thereof,  the  happiness  of  the  affec- 
tions. 


This  religion  has  delights  peculiar  to  the  relig- 
ious faculty,  the  happiness  of  the  Soul.  I  love 
the  Infinite  God  as  the  ideal  of  all  perfection, — 
beauty  to  the  imagination,  truth  to  the  reason, 
justice  to  the  conscience,  the  perfect  person  to  the 
affections,  the  Infinite  and  Self-faithful  God  to  the 
soul.  With  this  there  vanishes  away  all  fear  of 
God,  all  fear  of  ultimate  evil  for  any  thing  that  is. 
If  this  escape  from  fear  of  God  were  all,  that  alone 
were  a  great  thing.  How  men  hate  fear!  From 
the  dreadful  God  of  the  popular  theology,  and  its 
odious  immortality,  they  flee  to  annihilation ;  and 
atheism  itself  seems  a  relief.  But  this  religion 
which  grows  out  of  the  idea  of  the  Infinite  God 
casts   out  all  fear  and  the  torment  thereof.     I  am: 

26 


302  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

content  to  be  afraid  of  some  men,  stronger  and 
wickeder  than  I ;  I  know  they  can  hurt  me ;  I 
know  they  wish  it ;  I  know  they  will.  To  them 
my  truth  is  "  error  of  the  carnal  reason  ; "  my  justice 
is  "  violation  of  the  law  "  of  men  ;  my  love,  philan- 
thropic or  friendly,  is  "levying  war";  my  religion 
is  "  infidelity,"  — "  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost." 
I  fear  these  men  ;  they  turn  their  swine  into  my 
garden  to  root  up  and  tread  down  every  little  herb 
of  grace,  or  plant  that  flowers  for  present  or  for 
future  joy.  These  men  may  hang  me,  or  assassi- 
nate me  in  the  street.  I  will  try  to  keep  out  of 
their  wicked  way.  If  they  will  hurt  me,  I  must 
bear  it  as  best  I  can.  But  the  fear  of  such  men 
will  not  disturb  me  much.  Their  power  is  only  for 
a  time.  "  Thus  far,  but  no  further,"  quoth  Death  to 
the  tyrant ;  and  I  am  free. 

But  to  fear  God  whom  I  cannot  escape,  whom 
death  cannot  defend  me  from,  that  would  indeed  be 
most  dreadful.  Irreligion  is  the  fear  of  God.  It 
takes  two  forms.  In  atheism,  the  form  of  denial, 
you  fear  without  naming  the  object  of  horror,  per- 
haps calling  it  Chance  or  Fate ;  in  superstition,  the 
form  of  affirmation,  you  fear  Him  by  name,  believe 
and  tremble.  Superstition  and  atheism  are  fellow- 
trunks  from  the  same  root  of  bitterness.  I  would 
as  soon  worship  in  the  wigwam  of  Odin  and  Thor, 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  303 

as  in  the  temple  of  Fear  called  by  a  Hebrew  or  a 
Christian  name. 

With  a  knowledge  of  the  Infinite  God,  and  with 
a  fair  development  of  the  religious  faculties,  you 
cease  to  fear,  you  love.  As  nocturnal  darkness,  or 
the  gray  mist  of  morn,  is  chased  away  before  the 
rising  sun,  so  dread  and  horror  flee  off  before  the 
footsteps  of  love.  Instead  of  fear,  a  sense  of  com- 
plete and  absolute  trust  in  God  comes  in,  gives  you 
repose  and  peace,  filling  you  with  tranquillity  and 
dear  delight  in  God.  Then  I  know  not  what  a  day 
shall  bring  forth  ;  some  knave  may  strip  me  of  my 
house  and  home,  an  accident — my  own  or  another's 
fault  —  deprive  me  of  the  respect  of  men,  and  death 
leave  me  destitute  of  every  finite  friend,  the  objects 
of  instinctive  or  of  voluntary  love  all  scattered  from 
before  my  eyes  ;  some  hireling  of  the  government,  for 
ten  pieces  of  silver,  may  send  me  off  a  slave  for  all 
my  mortal  life  ;  decay  of  sense  may  perplex  me, 
wisdom  shut  out  an  eye  and  ear ;  and  disease  may 
rack  my  frame.  Still  I  am  not  afraid.  I  know 
what  eternity  will  be.  I  appeal  from  man  to  God. 
Forsaken,  I  am  not  alone,  uncomforted,  not  com- 
fortless. I  fold  my  arms  and  smile  at  the  ruin 
which  time  has  made,  the  peace  of  God  all  radiant 
in  my  soul. 

Let  me  look  full  in  the  face  the  evil  which  I  meet 
in  the  personal  tragedies  of  private  life,  in  the  social 


304  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

evils  which  darkly  variegate  this  and  all  other  great 
towns ;  let  me  see  monstrous  political  sin,  dooming 
one  man  to  a  throne  because  he  has  trod  thousands 
down  to  wretchedness  and  dirt;  nay,  let  me  see 
such  things  as  happen  now  in  Boston.  I  know  no 
sadder  sight  on  all  this  globe  of  lands  :  for  to-day  a 
brother-man  is  held  in  a  dungeon  by  the  avarice  of 
this  city,  which  seeks  to  make  him  a  slave,  and  he 
out  of  his  jail  sends  round  a  petition  to  the  clergy- 
men of  Boston,  asking  their  prayers  for  his  unalien- 
able rights,  —  a  prayer  which  they  will  refuse,  for 
those  "  churches  of  Christ "  are  this  day  a  "  den  of 
thieves,"  shambles  for  the  sale  of  human  flesh.* 
Let  me  look  on  all  these  things,  still  I  am  not  dis- 
mayed. I  know,  I  feel,  I  am  sure  of  this,  that  the 
Infinite  God  has  known  it  all,  provided  for  it  all ; 
that  as  He  is  all-powerful,  all-wise,  all-just,  all-loving, 
and  all-holy  too,  no  absolute  evil  shall  ever  come  to 
any  child  of  his,  erring  or  sinned  against.  I  will  do 
all  for  the  right  :  then,  if  I  fail,  the  result  abides 
with  God  ;  it  is  His  to  care  for  and  not  mine.  Thus 
am  I  powerful  to  bear,  as  powerful  to  do.  I  know 
of  no  calamity,  irresistible,  sudden,  seemingly  total, 
but  religion  can  abundantly  defend  the  head  and 
heart   against  its   harm.     So  I  can  be  calm.     De- 

*  The  prophecy  was  only  too  true,  but  here  and  there  remem- 
bered his  God. 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  305 

feated,  and  unable  to  rise,  I  will  "  lie  low  in  the 
hand  of  the  Father,"  smiling  with  the  delight  of 
most  triumphant  trust. 

"  These  surface  troubles  come  and  go 
Like  rufflings  of  the  sea  ; 
The  deeper  depth  is  out  of  reach 
To  all,  my  God,  but  Thee." 

With  this  tranquillity  of  trust  there  comes  a  still, 
a  peculiar  and  silent  joy  in  God.  You  feel  your 
delight  in  Him,  and  His  in  you.  The  man  is  not 
beside  himself,  he  is  self-possessed  and  cool.  There 
is  no  ecstasy,  no  fancied  "  being  swallowed  up  in 
God ; "  but  there  is  a  lasting  inward  sweetness  and 
abiding  joy.  It  will  not  come  out  in  raptures ;  it 
will  not  pray  all  night,  making  much  ado  for  noth- 
ing done ;  but  it  will  fill  the  whole  man  with  beati- 
tudes, with  delight  in  the  Infinite  God.  There  will 
be  a  calm  and  habitual  peace,  a  light  around  the 
mortal  brow,  but  a  light  which  passes  from  glory  to 
glory  till  it  changes  into  perfect  fulness  of  delicious 
joy.  God  gives  to  the  loving  in  their  sorrow  or 
their  sleep. 

Let  us  undervalue  no  partial  satisfaction,  which 
may  be  had  without  the  consciousness  of  God.  If 
it  be  legitimate  and  natural  to  man,  let  it  have  its 
place  and  its  joy.  Religion  is  not  every  thing.  But 
yet  the   happiness   of  this   inner  human  world,  the 

26* 


306  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

delight  of  loving  God  and  absolutely  trusting  Him, 
is  plainly  the  dearest  of  all  delights.  I  love  the 
world  of  sense,  its  beauty  to  the  eye  and  ear  ;  the 
natural  luxury  of  taste  and  touch.  It  is  indeed  a 
glorious  world, — the  stars  of  earth,  that  gem  the 
ground  with  dewy  loveliness,  the  flowers  of  heaven, 
whose  amaranthine  bloom  attracts  alike  the  admir- 
ing gaze  of  clown  or  sage,  and  draws  the  lover's  eye 
while  the  same  spirit  is  blooming  also  in  his  and 
in  another's  heart.  I  love  the  world  of  science,  — 
the  deeper  loveliness  which  the  mind  beholds  in 
each  eternal  star,  or  the  rathe  violet  of  this  April 
day.  What  a  more  wondrous  wonder  is  the  uni- 
form force  of  Nature,  whose  constant  modes  of  oper- 
ation are  all  exact  as  mathematic  law,  and  whence 
the  great  minds  of  Kepler,  Newton,  and  Laplace 
gather  the  flowers  of  nature's  art,  and  bind  them  up 
in  handfuls  for  our  lesser  wits !  I  rejoice  in  the 
world  of  men,  in  the  all-conquering  toil  which  sub- 
ordinates matter  unto  man,  making  the  river,  ocean, 
winds,  to  serve  mankind  ;  which  bridles  the  light- 
ning and  rides  it  through  the  sky,  and  sails  the 
stormiest  seas  unharmed.  I  rejoice  in  the  statutes 
which  reenact  the  eternal  laws  of  God,  and  admin- 
ister justice  betwixt  man  and  man.  I  delight  in 
human  love  in  all  its  forms,  instinctive  or  voluntary, 
in  friendship  and  philanthropy ;  the  mutuality  of 
persons  is  a  dear   and  sacred  joy  to  me.     But  the 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  307 

delight  in  God  is  yet  more,  —  dearer  than  each  of 
these ;  one  we  like  not  much  to  name.  Add  to  it 
all  these  several  delights,  which  get  each  a  charm 
from  this  consciousness  of  God,  and  you  taste  and 
see  the  real  happiness  of  religion. 

Religion  without  joy,  —  it  is  no  religion.  Super- 
stition, the  fear  of  God,  might  well  be  sad.  The 
devotees  thereof  seek  their  delight  in  violating 
the  functions  of  the  body  and  the  spirit.  In  the 
theological  garden  the  Tree  of  Life  bears  fruit 
indeed,  a  few  fair  apples,  but  out  of  reach,  which 
no  man  can  gather  till  death  lift  us  on  his  shoulders, 
and  then  they  are  not  apples  for  a  mortal  mouth. 
You  turn  off  from  the  literature  of  this  superstition, 
and  look  on  sunny  Nature,  on  the  minnow  in  the 
sea,  on  the  robin  in  the  field,  on  the  frog,  the  snake, 
the  spider,  and  the  toad,  and  smile  at  sight  of  their 
gladness  in  the  world,  and  wish  to  share  it  yourself. 
You  turn  to  the  literature  which  makes  a  mock  at 
all  religion.  You  find  enough  of  it  in  Greece  and 
Rome  at  the  decay  of  paganism,  enough  still  in 
brilliant  France  at  the  dissolution  of  Christian  my- 
thology, in  the  last  century  and  in  this.  There  also 
is  an  attempt  at  joy,  but  the  attempt  is  vain,  and 
the  little  life  of  men  is  full  of  wine  and  uproar  and 
scarlet  women,  is  poor,  unsatisfactory,  and  short, 
rounded  with  bitterness  at  the  last.  The  chief 
tree  in  that  garden  blossoms  bright  enough,  but  it 


308  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS   A 

bears  only  apples  of  Sodom  for  a  body  without  a 
soul,  a  here  with  no  hereafter,  in  a  world  without 
a  God.  In  such  a  place  the  brilliance  of  genius  is 
only  lightning,  not  light.  In  such  company  you 
almost  long  for  the  iron  age  of  theology  and  the 
hard  literature  of  the  "  divines,"  lean  and  old  and 
sour,  but  yet  teaching  us  of  a  Will  above  the  poor 
caprice  of  men,  of  a  Mind  beyond  this  perishing 
intellect,  of  an  Arm  which  made  men  tremble  in- 
deed, but  also  upheld  the  world.  At  least  there 
is  Duty  in  that  grim  creation,  and  self-denial  for  the 
sake  of  God. 

Things  should  not  be  so.  Sensuality  is  not 
adequate  delight  for  men  who  look  to  immortal- 
ity. Religion  is  not  at  enmity  with  joy.  No:  it 
is  irreligion,  —  atheistic  now  and  now  supersti- 
tious. There  is  no  tyranny  in  God.  Man  is  not 
a  worm,  the  world  a  vale  of  tears.  Tears  enough 
there  are,  and  long  will  be,  —  the  morning  mist  of 
the  human  day.  We  can  wipe  off  some  of  them,  can 
rend  a  little  the  cloud  of  ignorance  and  want  and 
crime,  and  let  in  the  gladdening  light  of  life.  Nay, 
grief  and  sorrow  are  the  world's  medicine,  salutary 
as  such,  and  not  excessive  for  the  ill  they  come  to 
cure.  But  if  we  are  to  make  them  our  daily  food, 
and  call  that  angels'  bread,  surely  it  is  a  mistake 
which  the  world  of  matter  cries  out  upon,  and 
human  nature  itself  forbids. 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  309 

The  development  of  religion  in  man  is  the  con- 
dition of  the  highest  happiness.  Temperance,  the 
piety  of  the  body,  prepares  that  for  the  corporeal 
joys,  the  humble  in  their  place,  the  highest  also  in 
their  own ;  wisdom,  the  piety  of  mind,  justice, 
the  piety  of  conscience,  and  love,  the  piety  of  the 
affections,  —  the  love  of  God  with  all  our  varied 
faculties, — these  furnish  us  the  complete  spiritual 
joy  which  is  the  birthright  of  each  man.  It  is  the 
function  of  religion  to  minister  this  happiness,  which 
comes  of  self-denial  for  the  sake  of  God. 

The  joy  of  religion  must  be  proportionate  to  the 
purity  of  the  feeling,  the  completeness  of  the  idea, 
and  the  perfection  of  the  act.  When  all  are  as 
they  should  be,  what  a  joy  is  there  for  man !  No 
disappointment  will  have  lasting  power  over  you, 
no  sorrow  destroy  your  peace  of  soul.  Even  the 
remembrance  of  sins  past  by  will  be  assuaged  by 
the  experience  you  thereby  have,  and  by  the  new 
life  which  has  grown  over  them.  The  sorrows  of 
the  world  will  not  seem  as  death-pangs,  but  the 
birth-pains  of  new  and  holier  life.  The  sins  of 
mankind,  the  dreadful  wars,  the  tyrannies  of  the 
strong  over  the  weak,  or  of  the  many  over  the 
few,  will  be  seen  to  be  only  the  stumbling  of  this 
last  child  of  God  learning  to  walk,  to  use  his  limbs 
and  possess  himself  of  the  world  which  waits  to  be 
mastered  by  man's  wisdom,  ruled  by  man's  justice, 


310  CONSCIOUS   RELIGION   AS    A 

directed  by  man's  love,  as  part  of  the  great  human 
worship  of  the  Infinite  God.     The  Past,  the  Pres- 
ent, and  the  Future  will  appear  working  together 
for   you    and   all   mankind,  —  all    made    from    the 
perfect   motive  of  God,  for  a  perfect  end  and  as  a 
perfect    means.     You    will   know    that  the   provi- 
dence of  the  Great  Author  of  us  all  is  so  complete 
and  universal,  that  every  wrong  that  man  has  suf- 
fered which  he  could  not  escape,  every  sorrow  he 
has  borne  that  could  not  be  resisted  nor  passed  by, 
every  duty  we  have  done,  had  a  purpose  to  serve 
in   the   infinite  housekeeping  of  the   universe,  and 
is  warrant  for  so  much  eternal  blessedness  in  the 
world  to  come.     You  look  on  the  base  and  wicked 
men  who  seem  as  worms  in  the  mire  of  civilization, 
often  delighting  to  bite  and  devour  one  another,  and 
you   remark   that  these  also  are  children  of  God  ; 
that    He   loves   each   of  them,    and   will   suffer   no 
ancient  Judas,   nor   modern  kidnapper   of  men,  to 
perish ;  that  there  is  no  child  of  perdition  in  all  the 
family  of  God,  but  He  will  lead  home   his   sinner 
and  his  saint,  and  such  as  are  sick  with  the  leprosy 
of  their  wickedness,  "  the  murrain  of  beasts,"  bowed 
down  and  not  able  to  lift  themselves  up,  He  will 
carry  in  his  arms  ! 

The  joys  of  the  flesh  are  finite,  and  soon  run 
through.  Objects  of  passion  are  the  dolls  wherewith 
we  learn  to  use  our  higher  faculties,  and  through  all 


SOURCE   OF  JOY.  311 

our  life  the  joy  of  religion,  the  delight  in  God,  be- 
comes more  and  more.  All  that  ancient  saints  ever 
had  thereof,  the  peace  which  the  world  could  not 
give,  the  rest  unto  the  soul,  which  Jesus  spoke  of, — 
all  these  are  for  you  and  me,  here  and  now  and 
to-day,  if  we  will.  Our  own  souls  hunger  for  it, 
God  offers  it  to  us  all.  "  Come  and  take,"  says  the 
Father  of  the  world. 

"  While  Thou,  O  my  God,  art  my  Help  and  Defender, 

No  cares  can  o'erwhelrn  me,  no  terrors  appall ; 
The  wiles  and  the  snares  of  this  world  will  but  render 

More  lively  my  hope  in  my  God  and  my  All. 
And  when  Thou  demandest  the  life  Thou  hast  given, 

With  joy  will  I  answer  Thy  merciful  call ; 
And  quit  Thee  on  earth,  but  to  find  Thee  in  heaven, 

My  Portion  for  ever,  my  God,  and  my  All." 


IX. 


OF  CONVENTIONAL  AND  NATURAL  SACRAMENTS. 


I    WILL    HAVE    MERCY,    AND    NOT    SACRIFICE. — Matt.  ix.  13. 

Nothing  in  human  experience  is  so  lovely  as  the 
consciousness  of  God  ;  nothing  so  tranquillizing,  ele- 
vating, beautifying.  See  it  on  a  merely  personal 
scale  in  a  man,  imagine  it  on  a  national  scale  in  a 
great  people,  —  the  natural  development  of  religion 
into  its  various  forms  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
phenomena  of  the  world.  But,  alas  !  men  too  often 
love  to  meddle  a  little  with  nature ;  not  simply  to 
develop,  complete,  and  perfect  what  begun  sponta- 
neously, but  to  alter  after  individual  caprice,  so  that 
the  universal,  eternal,  and  unchangeable  force  is 
made  to  take  the  form  of  their  personal,  temporary, 
and  shifting  caprice. 

Thus  in  old  gardens  you  may  see  pines,  yew-trees, 
and  oaks  clipped  into  fantastic  and  unnatural  forms, 
looking  like  any  thing  but  trees,  not  works  of  nature, 


CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      313 

but  tricks  of  skill.  A  fan,  a  pyramid,  or  a  peacock 
is  taken  for  the  model  of  a  tree,  and  the  poor  oak  or 
yew  is  teased  into  some  approach  to  that  alien  type. 
But  the  tree  is  always  stinted,  ugly,  and  short-lived 
under  such  treatment.  Pliant  nature  assumes  the 
form  thrust  on  her,  and  then  dies.  So  the  savage, 
who  has  not  yet  learned  to  clothe  his  -body,  colors  it 
with  gall-nuts  or  ochre,  tattooes  his  fancy  upon  his 
skin,  mutilates  the  members,  and  hangs  "  barbaric 
pearl  and  gold  "  where  nature  left  no  need  nor  room 
for  ornament.  Civilized  nations  cut  off  the  manly 
beard,  and  scrimp  and  screw  the  female  form,  warp- 
ing, twisting,  distorting,  and  wasting  the  dear  handi- 
work of  God.  So  we  see  men,  as  those  trees,  walk- 
ing" in  a  vain  show  far  astray  from  the  guidance  of 
nature,  looking  as  if  "  nature's  journeymen  had 
made  them,  and  not  made  them  well,  they  imitate 
humanity  so  abominably." 

But  man  is  not  content  to  meddle  with  his  body. 
He  must  try  his  hand  on  the  soul,  warping  and 
twisting,  tattooing  and  mutilating  that  also,  coloring 
it  with  ochre  and  gall-nuts  of  more  astringent  bite, 
and  hanging  barbaric  pendants  thereon.  Attempts 
are  made  to  interfere  with  the  religious  faculty,  and 
give  it  a  conventional  direction  ;  to  make  it  take  on 
certain  forms  of  human  caprice,  not  human  nature. 
Some  monstrous  fancy  is  adopted   for   the  model 

27 


314      CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

man,  and  then  common  men  are  clipped,  and  pruned, 
and  headed  down,  or  bent  in,  and  twisted  into  a 
resemblance  to  that  type.  Nay,  men  are  thought 
to  be  religious,  just  as  they  conform  to  the  unnat- 
ural abomination.  "  God  likes  none  but  the  clipped 
spirit,"  quoth  the  priest.  "  No  natural  man  for  Him. 
Away  with  your  whole  men.  Mutilation  is  the  test 
of  piety !  " 

If  some  Apelles  or  Michael  Angelo  could  paint 
the  religious  condition  of  mankind,  and  represent  by 
form  and  color  to  the  eye  all  this  mutilation,  twist- 
ing, distorting,  and  tattooing  of  the  invisible  spirit, 
what  a  sight  it  would  be,  —  these  dwarfs  and  crip- 
ples, one-legged,  one-eyed,  one-handed,  and  half- 
headed,  half-hearted  men!  what  a  harlequin-show 
there  would  be!  what  motley  on  men's  shoulders! 
what  caps  and  bells  on  reverend  heads,  and  tattooing 
which  would  leave  Australia  far  behind!  What 
strange  jewels  are  the  fashionable  theological  opin- 
ions of  Christendom!  Surely  such  liveries  were 
never  invented  before !  In  that  picture  men  would 
look  as  striped  as  the  Pope's  guard.  And  if  some 
Adamitic  men  and  women  were  also  represented, 
walking  about  in  this  varicolored  paradise  of  theol- 
ogy, arrayed  in  the  natural  costume  of  religion, 
"  when  unadorned,  adorned  the  most,"  how  different 
they  wrould  seem !  Truly  that  gibbeting  of  theologi- 
cal folly  in  a  picture  would  be  a  more  instructive 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      315 

"  Last  Judgment "  than  even  the  great  Michael  ever 
thought  of  painting. 

In  all  forms  of  religion  hitherto  there  has  been 
noticed,  not  merely  the  natural  difference  between 
right  and  wrong,  good  and  evil,  but  also  an  artificial 
and  conventional  difference  between  things  sacred 
and  things  profane.  Some  things  are  deemed  com- 
mon and  laical  ;  others  are  called  holy  and  clerical. 
This  conventional  distinction  begins  early,  extends 
wide,  and  will  outlast  you  and  me  a  great  many 
years.  Thus,  what  is  now-a-days  said  under  oath 
is  officially  thought  a  holy  and  clerical  sort  of  truth  ; 
while  what  is  said  without  oath,  though  equally 
correspondent  with  facts,  is  officially  considered  only 
a  common  and  laical  sort  of  truth.  Some  persons, 
as  atheists  and  such  as  deny  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  are  thought  incapable  of  this  clerical  truth, 
and  so  not  allowed  to  swear,  or  otherwise  testify,  in 
court. 

In  earlier  ages  of  the  world,  and  even  now,  this 
conventional  distinction  between  laical  and  clerical, 
sacred  and  profane,  applies  to  places,  as  groves,  hill- 
tops, temples,  and  the  like  ;  to  times,  as  new  moons 
with  one,  full  moons  with  another,  Friday  with  the 
Turks,  Saturday  with  the  Jews,  Sunday  with  the 
Christians  ;  to  things,  as  statues  of  saints  and  dei- 
ties, the  tools  of   public   worship ;   to  persons,    and 


316      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

some  are  set  apart  from  mankind  as  "the  Lord's 
lot,"  and  deemed  holy ;  to  actions,  some  of  which 
are  reckoned  pleasing  to  God,  not  because  they  are 
naturally  right,  good,  beautiful,  or  useful,  but  only 
as  conventionally  sacred ;  and  to  opinions,  which  for 
the  same  reason  were  pronounced  revealed,  and  so 
holy  and  clerical. 

The  laws  of  the  land,  for  a  long  time,  observed 
this  artificial  distinction.  Thus  a  blow  struck  in  a 
church  or  temple  brought  a  severer  punishment  on 
the  offender  than  if  given  elsewhere.  Even  now 
in  Boston  it  is  lawful  to  "  gamble,"  except  on  Satur- 
day night  and  Sunday  ;  and  all  common  work  on 
that  day  is  penal.  Formerly  it  was  legally  thought 
worse  to  steal  church  property  than  any  other.  To 
rob  a  beggar  was  a  small  thing ;  it  was  a  great  sin 
to  steal  from  a  meeting-house.  To  take  a  whole 
loaf  from  a  baker's  basket  was  a  trifle,  but  to  steal 
the  consecrated  wafer  from  the  church-box  brought 
the  offender  to  the  stake.  Says  Charlemagne, 
"  Less  mercy  is  to  be  shown  to  men  who  rob  and 
steal  from  the  church,  than  to  common  thieves."  In 
New  England,  until  lately,  for  striking  a  clergyman 
a  man  was  punished  twice  as  much  as  for  striking  a 
layman  ;  not  because  a  bishop  is  to  be  blameless, 
"  no  striker,"  and  so  less  likely,  and  less  able,  to 
retaliate,  but  because  he  is  a  holy  person.  Not  long 
ago  there  was  no  penalty  in  this  State  for  disturbing 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      317 

a  moral  meeting,  but  a  severe  one  for  disturbing  a 
religious  meeting.     Opinions  connected  with  relig- 
ion have  had  laws  to  defend  them.     It  was  once  a 
capital  crime  to  deny  the  Trinity,  or  the  inspiration 
of  the  Song  of  Solomon,  while  a  man  might  deny 
all  the  axioms  of  Euclid,  all  the  conclusions  of  sci- 
ence,  and   the   law  let  him  alone.     It   seems   that 
these  artificial  and  foreign  "  sacred  things  "  cannot 
take  care  of  themselves  so  well  as  the  indigenous 
"things  of  this   world."     Religion  was  thought  to 
extend  to  certain  places,  times,  things,  persons,  ac- 
tions, and  opinions,  and  the  law  gave  them  a  pecu- 
liar  protection ;    but   religion    was    not   thought  to 
extend  much  further.      So   the    law    stopped  there. 
About  three  hundred  years  ago,  an  Italian  sculptor 
was  burned  alive,  in   Spain,  for  breaking  a  statue 
he  had  himself  made,  being  angry  because  the  cus- 
tomer would  not  pay  the  price  for  it.     The  statue 
was  a  graven  image  of  the  Virgin  Mary.     Had  it 
been  the  image  of  his  own  mother,  he   might  have 
ground  it  to  powder  if  he  liked,  or  he  might  have 
beat  his  own  living  wife,  and  had  no  fault  found 
with  him. 

There  was  a  deeper  reason  for  this  capricious  dis- 
tinction than  we  sometimes  think.  Religion  ought 
to  be  the  ruler  in  all  the  affairs  of  men  ;  but  before 
we  come  to  the  absolute  religion,  which  will  one 
day   do  this,   men    begin    with    certain    particular 

27* 


318      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS- 

things  which  they  claim  as  divine.  Religion  is  to 
have  eminent  domain  over  them,  while  over  other 
things  it  has  a  joint  jurisdiction  with  "  the  world." 
It  was  well  that  their  idea  of  religion  went  as  far  as 
it  did.  In  the  Middle  Ages,  if  a  fugitive  slave  fled 
to  the  Catholic  Church  and  got  to  the  altar,  his  mas- 
ters had  no  legal  right  to  touch  him  but  by  permis- 
sion of  the  priest.  The  bishop  interfered,  made 
terms  with  the  masters,  and  then  delivered  him  up 
or  not  as  they  promised  well  or  ilL  The  spirit  of 
religion  was  supposed  to  rule  in  the  church,  and  to 
protect  the  outcast.  Men  counselled  wiser  than 
they  knew.  It  was  a  good  thing  that  religion,  such 
a  rude  notion  as  men  had  of  it,  prevailed  in  that 
narrow  spot.  When  the  tyrant  would  not  respect 
God  in  all  space,  it  was  well  that  he  should  tremble 
before  the  sanctuary  of  a  stone  altar  in  a  meeting- 
house. He  would  not  respect  a  man,  let  him  learn 
by  beginning  with  a  priest.  If  a  murderer  or  a  trai- 
tor took  refuge  in  the  heathen  temples,  nobody  could 
drive  him  away  or  disturb  him,  for  only  God  had 
jurisdiction  in  the  holy  place.  So  was  it  with  the 
Hebrew  cities  of  refuge  :  without,  the  atrocity  of 
the  world  prevailed;  within  was  the  humanity  of 
•religion.     The  great  begins  small. 

I  believe  there  is  no  nation  acquainted  with  fire 
but  makes  this  artificial  distinction.  It  is  the  first 
feeble   attempt  of  the   religious   faculty  to   assume 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      319 

power  iii  the  outward  world  ;  in  due  time  it  will 
extend  its  jurisdiction  over  all  time  and  space,  over 
all  things,  all  thoughts,  all  men,  all  deeds. 

It  is  curious  to  see  how  this  faculty  goes  on  en- 
larging its  territory :  one  day  religion  watches  over 
the  beginning  of  human  life;  then  over  its  end; 
next  over  its  most  eminent  events,  such  as  marriage, 
or  the  entrance  upon  an  office,  making  a  will,  or 
giving  testimony,  all  of  which  are  connected  with 
some  act  of  religion.  You  see  what  it  all  points 
towards,  —  a  coordination  of  all  human  faculties  with 
the  religious.  Here  is  the  great  forest  of  human  life, 
—  a  tangled  brushwood,  full  of  wild  appetites  and 
prowling  calculations,  —  to  be  cleared  up.  Religion 
hews  down  a  few  trees,  burns  over  a  little  spot,  puts 
in  a  few  choice  seeds,  and  scares  off  therefrom  the 
wild  beasts  of  appetite,  the  cunning  beasts  of  calcu- 
lation. This  is  only  the  beginning  of  clearing  up 
the  whole  forest.  What  pains  the  savage  in  New 
England  took  with  his  little  patch  of  artichokes, 
beans,  pumpkins,  and  corn !  With  his  rude  tools, 
how  poorly  he  dug  and  watered  it,  and  for  what  a 
stingy  harvest !  He  often  chose  the  worst  spot,  he 
knew  no  better,  and  got  but  small  return,  not  know- 
ing how  to  make  bread  out  of  the  ground.  His 
garden  was  a  very  little  patch  in  the  woods,  and 
looked  ridiculous  beside  the  square  leagues  of  wild 
woodland,  a  howling  wilderness,  that  reached  from 


320      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS. 

the  Kennebec  to  the  Mississippi.  But  it  was  the 
first  step  towards  cultivating  the  whole  continent. 
So  is  it  with  the  sacred  things  of  the  Hottentot 
and  the  Hebrew,  the  Caffre  and  the  Christian.  Let 
us  not  despise  the  rude  commencement  of  great 
things. 

To  simplify  the  matter,  let  us  consider  only  the 
Actions  pronounced  religious.  Certain  deeds  are 
selected  and  declared  sacred,  not  on  account  of  their 
natural  usefulness  or  beauty,  but  by  some  caprice. 
These  are  declared  the  "  ordinances  of  religion,"  the 
"  sacraments  "  thereof,  —  things  which  represent  and 
express  religion, — which  it  is  pronounced  religious 
to  do,  and  irreligious  not  to  do.  If  there  is  a  na- 
tional form  of  religion,  then  there  is  a  national 
sacrament,  established  by  authority ;  so  a  social 
sacrament  for  society,  established,  like  the  "law  of 
honor, '  by  custom,  the  tacit  consent  of  society. 
Thus  is  there  a  domestic  sacrament  for  the  family, 
and  a  personal  ordinance  of  religion  for  the  individ- 
ual man.  Accordingly,  these  conventional  actions 
come  to  be  thought  the  exclusive  expression  of  relig- 
ion, and  therefore  pleasing  to  God ;  they  are  not 
thought  educational,  means  of  growth,  but  final,  the 
essential  substance  of  religion.  Some  man  is  ap- 
pointed to  look  after  the  performance  of  these  actions, 
and  it  is  thought  desirable  to  get  the  greatest  possi- 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      321 

ble  number  of  persons  to  participate  in  them  ;  and 
he  that  turns  many  to  these  conventional  sacraments 
is  thought  a  great  servant  of  God. 

Look  at  some  of  these  artificial  sacraments.  The 
Indians  of  New  England  left  tobacco  or  the  fat  of 
the  deer  on  the  rocks,  an  offering  to  the  Great  Spirit. 
"With  them  it  was  an  "  ordinance  of  religion,"  and 
stood  for  an  act  of  piety  and  morality  both.  The 
clerical  Bowwows  recommended  the  action  to  the 
people.  What  a  time  they  had  of  it,  those  red  sav- 
ages here  in  the  woods!  It  was  thought  impious 
not  to  perform  the  ritual  act ;  but  their  religion  did 
not  forbid  its  votary  to  lie,  to  steal,  to  torture  his  foe 
with  all  conceivable  cruelty. 

Two  thousand  years  ago  our  Teutonic  fathers  in 
the  North  of  Europe  worshipped  a  goddess  named 
Hertha.  They  had  a  forest  consecrated  to  her  on 
an  island  ;  therein  was  a  sacred  image  of  her,  which 
was,  now  and  then,  carried  about  the  country,  on  a 
carriage  drawn  by  cows,  —  the  statue  covered  with 
cloth  and  hid  from  sight.  War  was  suspended 
wherever  the  chariot  came,  and  weapons  of  iron  put 
out  of  sight.  It  was  then  washed  in  a  certain  lake ; 
and,  to  shroud  the  whole  in  grim  mystery,  the  priests 
who  had  performed  the  ritual  act  were  drowned  in 
the  same  lake.  This  was  the  great  national  sacra- 
ment of  the  people.  It  was  wholly  artificial,  neither 
useful  nor  beautiful.      The  statue  was  an  idol  of 


322      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

wood ;  the  cows  who  drew  it  were  no  better  than 
other  cows.  There  was  nothing  holy  in  the  image, 
the  grove,  or  the  ceremony ;  the  drowning  of  the 
priests  was  a  cruel  butchery. 

As  a  sacrament,  the  New-Hollander  cuts  off  the 
last  joint  of  the  little  finger  of  his  son's  left  hand ; 
it  is  an  offering  to  God,  who  has  made  the  finger  a 
joint  too  long  for  piety. 

The  Hebrews  had  their  outward  ordinances  of 
religion,  —  two  personal  sacraments  of  universal  ob- 
ligation, binding  on  each  man,  —  circumcision,  and 
rest  on  the  Sabbath.  There  were  two  more  national 
sacraments,  binding  on  the  nation,  —  the  formal 
worship  of  Jehovah,  in  Jerusalem,  at  stated  times, 
and  by  a  prescribed  ritual ;  and  the  celebration  of 
the  three  national  festivals.  These  were  the  sacra- 
ments of  religion.  To  eat  the  paschal  lamb  was  a 
"  virtue,"  to  taste  swine's  flesh  a  "  sin."  It  was  a 
capital  crime  to  heal  a  sick  man  on  Saturday.  All 
these  were  artificial.  Circumcision  was  a  bad  thing 
in  itself,  and  gets  its  appropriate  hit  in  the  New 
Testament.  Rest  on  the  seventh  day  was  no  better 
than  on  the  first ;  no  better  than  work  on  the  second ; 
and  worship  in  Jerusalem,  at  that  time,  and  by  that 
form,  no  better  than  worship  at  Jericho,  by  another 
form,  and  at  a  different  time.  The  three  feasts  were 
no  better  than  the  festivals  of  Easter  and  of  Yule. 
Yet  those  things  were  made  the  tests  of  piety  and  of 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      323 

morality.  Not  to  attend  to  them  was  deemed  im- 
piety against  God.  The  Hebrew  priest  took  great 
pains  to  interest  the  people  in  all  this  matter,  to 
have  the  sacrifices  offered,  circumcision  performed, 
the  Sabbath  and  the  feasts  kept.  He  who  hobbled 
the  most  in  this  lame  way,  and  on  these  artificial 
crutches,  was  thought  the  greatest  priest.  What  a 
reputation  did  puritanical  Nehemiah  get  by  his  zeal 
in  these  trifles!  But  when  Jesus  of  Nazareth  came, 
his  heart  full  of  natural  religion,  he  made  way  with 
most  of  these  ordinances. 

Amongst  Christians  in  general  there  is  one  spe- 
cific sacramental  opinion,  —  that  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth is  the  only  Son  of  God.  The  opinion  itself 
is  of  no  value.  You  may  admit  all  the  excellence 
of  Jesus,  and  copy  it  all,  and  yet  never  have  the 
opinion.  I  do  not  find  that  the  historical  person, 
Jesus,  had  any  such  opinion  at  all.  Nay,  the 
opinion  is  an  evil,  for  it  leads  men  to  take  this 
noble  man  and  prostrate  their  mind  and  conscience 
before  his  words  ;  just  as  much  as  Jesus  is  elevated 
above  the  human  is  man  sunk  below  it.  But  for 
ages,  in  the  Church,  this  has  been  thought  the  one 
thing  needful  to  make  a  man  a  Christian,  to  make 
him  "  pious "  and  acceptable  to  God,  —  the  great 
internal  ordinance  and  subjective  sacrament  of  re- 
ligion. 

In  the  Catholic  Church   there  is   another   sacra- 


324      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

mental  opinion  distinctive  of  that  Christian  sect, 
—  the  belief  that  the  Roman  Church  is  divine  and 
infallible.  The  Protestants  have  also  their  distinc- 
tive, sacramental  opinion,  —  that  the  Scriptures  are 
divine  and  infallible. 

The  consistent  Catholic  tells  you  there  is  no 
salvation  without  the  belief  of  his  sacramental  doc- 
trine ;  consistent  Protestants  claim  the  same  value 
for  their  Shibboleth.  So  a  man  is  to  be  "  saved," 
and  "  reconciled  with  God "  by  faith ;  a  general 
faith,  —  the  belief  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  is  the 
only  Son  of  God  ;  a  particular  faith,  —  the  belief  in 
the  divine  and  infallible  Church,  or  the  divine  and 
infallible  Scriptures. 

Then  the  Catholics  have  certain  additional  out- 
ward sacraments,  which  are  subsidiary,  and  called 
the  "  ordinances  of  religion,"  —  such  as  baptism, 
confirmation,  penance,  extreme  unction,  and  the 
like.  The  Protestants  have  likewise  their  addi- 
tional outward  sacraments  subsidiary  to  the  other, 
and  which  are  their  "  ordinances  of  religion,"  — 
such  as  bodily  presence  at  church,  which  is  enjoined 
upon  all,  and  is  the  great  external  artificial  sacra- 
ment of  the  Protestants ;  baptism  for  a  few ;  com- 
munion for  a  selecter  few ;  and  belief  in  all  the 
doctrines  of  the  special  sect,  —  an  internal  sacra- 
ment which  is  actually  enjoyed  by  only  the  smallest 
portion  of  the  selectest  few. 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      325 

Now  all  of  these  are  purely  artificial  sacra- 
ments. They  are  not  good  in  themselves.  Each 
of  them  has  once  had  an  educational  value  for 
mankind ;  some  of  them  still  have,  to  a  portion  of 
mankind.  But  they  are  not  valued  for  their  ten- 
dency to  promote  natural  piety  and  natural  moral- 
ity, only  as  things  good  in  themselves  ;  not  as 
means  to  the  grace  and  helps  to  the  glory  of  relig- 
ion, but  as  religion  itself.  Ecclesiastically  it  is 
thought  just  as  meritorious  a  thing  to  attend  the 
preaching  of  a  dull,  ignorant,  stupid  fellow,  who 
has  nothing  to  teach  and  teaches  it,  as  to  listen  to 
the  eloquent  piety  of  a  Fenelon,  Taylor,  or  Buck- 
minster,  or  to  the  beautiful  philanthropy  of  St. 
Roch,  Oberlin,  or  Charming.  Bodily  presence  in 
the  church  being  the  sacrament,  it  is  of  small  con- 
sequence what  bulk  of  dulness  presses  the  pulpit 
while  the  sacrament  goes  on.  There  is  a  "real 
presence,"  if  naught  else  be  real.  An  indifferent 
man  baptized  with  water  is  thought  a  much  better 
"  Christian  "  than  a  man  full  of  piety  and  morality 
but  without  the  elemental  sprinkling. 

If  you  ask  a  New  England  Powwow  for  proof 
of  the  religious  character  of  a  red  man,  he  would 
have  cited  the  offering  of  tobacco  to  the  Great 
Spirit ;  a  Teutonic  priest  would  refer  to  the  rever- 
ence of  his  countrymen  for  the  ceremony  just 
spoken  of;   a   New- Hollander  would  dwell  on  the 

28 


326      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

devotion  of  his  neighbors,  and  show  the  little 
fingers  cut  off;  a  Hebrew  would  expatiate  on  the 
sacrament  of  circumcision,  of  Sabbath-keeping,  of 
attendance  upon  the  formal  sacrifice  at  Jerusalem, 
the  observance  of  the  three  feasts,  and  abstinence 
from  swine's  flesh ;  the  Christian  dwells  on  his  dis- 
tinctive sacramental  opinion,  that  Jesus  is  the  Son 
of  Jehovah.  Ask  the  Catholic  priests  for  proof 
that  Joseph  is  a  Christian,  they  will  tell  you,  "  He 
believes  in  the  divine  and  infallible  Roman  Church, 
and  receives  its  sacraments;"  ask  the  Protestant 
priests  for  a  proof  of  their  brother's  piety,  they  will 
refer  to  his  belief  in  the  divine  and  infallible  Scrip- 
tures, to  his  attendance  at  church,  his  baptism  with 
water,  his  communion  in  wine  and  bread;  and,  if 
he  is  an  eminent  "  saint,"  to  his  belief  in  all  the 
technical  opinions  of  his  sect.  True,  they  may  all 
add  other  things  which  belong  to  real  religion,  but 
you  will  find  that  these  artificial  sacraments  are 
the  things  relied  on  as  proofs  of  religion,  of  Chris- 
tianity, the  signs  of  acceptableness  with  God,  and 
of  eternal  bliss.  The  others  are  only  "  of  works,"  — 
these  "  of  faith  ; "  one  of  "  natural  religion,"  the 
next  of  "  revealed  religion  ;  "  morality  is  provisional, 
and  the  sacraments  a  finality. 

Accordingly,  great  pains  are  taken  to  bring  men 
to  these  results.  If  a  minister  does  this  to  large 
numbers,  he  is  called  "  an  eminent  servant  of  the 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      327 

Lord,"  —  that  is,  a  great  circumciser,  a  great 
sprinkler  or  plunger.  Francis  Xavier  "converted" 
thousands  of  men  to  what  he  called  Christianity  ; 
they  took  the  sacrament  of  belief,  and  of  baptism, 
—  in  due  time  the  others  ;  and  Francis  was  made  a 
saint.  But  it  does  not  appear  that  he  made  them 
any  better  men,  better  sons,  brothers,  husbands,  fa- 
thers, better  neighbors  and  friends.  He  only  brought 
them  to  the  artificial  sacrament.  It  is  often  the 
ambition  of  a  Protestant  minister  to  extend  the 
jurisdiction  of  his  artificial  sacraments,  to  bring 
men  to  baptism  and  communion,  not  to  industry, 
temperance,  and  bodily  well-being ;  not  to  wisdom, 
justice,  friendship,  and  philanthropy;  not  to  an 
absolute  love  of  God,  a  joyous,  absolute  faith  in 
the  Dear  Mother  of  us  all. 

Let  us  do  no  injustice  to  those  poor,  leaky  ves- 
sels of  worship  which  we  have  borrowed  from  the 
Egyptians  to  whom  we  were  once  in  bondage. 
They  all  have  had  their  use.  Man  sets  up  his 
mythologies  and  his  sacraments  to  suit  his  condi- 
tion of  soul  at  the  time.  You  cannot  name  a  cere- 
mony connected  with  religion,  howsoever  absurd  or 
wicked  it  may  appear,  but  once  it  came  out  of  the 
soul  of  some  man  who  needed  it ;  and  it  helped  him 
at  the  time.  The  tobacco  offered  to  Hobomock  at 
Narragansett,  the  procession  of  Hertha  in  Pannonia, 


328      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

the  ritual  mutilation  in  New  Holland,  in  Judea, 
or,  still  worse,  in  Phrygia  and  Crete,  all  once  had 
their  meaning.  Nay,  human  sacrifice  was  once  the 
highest  act  of  worship  which  some  dark-minded 
savage  could  comprehend,  and  in  good  faith  the 
victim  was  made  ready  at  Mexico  or  at  Moriah. 
But  the  best  of  them  are  only  educational,  not  final ; 
and  the  sooner  we  can  outgrow  those  childish 
things,  the  better. 

Men  often  mock  at  such  things.  What  mouths 
Arnobius  and  Augustine  made  at  the  heathen  super- 
stitions, taking  their  cue  from  pagan  Lucian  of 
Samosata,  the  prince  of  scoffers  ;  they  have  given 
the  face  of  Christendom  an  anti-Pagan  twist  which 
it  keeps  to  this  day.  How  Voltaire  and  his  accom- 
plished coadjutors  repeated  the  mock,  at  the  cost  of 
the  followers  of  Augustine  and  Arnobius  !  This  is 
hardly  wise,  and  not  reverent.  Those  things  are  to 
be  regarded  as  the  work  of  children,  who  have  their 
snow-houses  in  winter,  their  earth-houses  in  sum- 
mer, their  games  and  plays,  —  trifles  to  us,  but  seri- 
ous things  to  the  little  folk  ;  of  great  service  in  the 
education  of  the  eye  and  hand,  —  nay,  of  the  under- 
standing itself.  How  the  little  boy  cries  because 
he  cannot  spin  his  top  like  the  older  brothers !  He 
learns  to  spin  it,  and  is  delighted  with  its  snoring 
hum ;  learning  skill  by  that,  he  by  and  by  goes  on 
to  higher  acts  of  boyish  life.     So  is  it  with  these 


CONVENTIONAL    AND    NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      329 

artificial  sacraments.  Xavier  brought  a  new  top  to 
the  men  of  India ;  Charlemagne  slew  the  Saxons 
who  would  not  accept  his,  —  as  rude  boys  force  the 
little  ones  from  old  to  new  sports. 

It  is  no  evil  to  have  some  things  of  the  sort ;  no 
more  than  it  is  for  a  boy  to  ride  a  stick  before  he 
can  mount  a  horse  ;  or  for  a  little  girl  to  fill  her  arms 
with  a  Nuremberg  baby  before  she  can  manage  hu- 
man children.  Only  the  evil  is,  that  these  things 
are  thought  the  real  and  natural  sacrament  of  relig- 
ion ;  and  so  the  end  thereof  is  lost  in  the  means. 
That  often  happens,  and  is  fatal  to  religious  growth. 
If  the  boy  become  a  man,  still  kept  to  his  wooden 
stick,  counting  it  a  real  horse,  better  than  all  the 
trotters  and  pacers  in  Connecticut,  if  he  had  stables 
for  sticks  in  place  of  steeds,  and  men  to  groom  and 
tend  his  wooden  hobby ;  if  the  girl,  become  a  wo- 
man now,  still  hugged  her  doll  from  Nuremberg, 
making  believe  it  was  a  child,  —  loved  it  better  than 
sons  and  daughters,  and  left  her  own  baby  to  dandle 
a  lump  of  wood,  counting  a  child  only  provisional, 
and  the  doll  a  finality, — then  we  should  see  the 
same  error  that  was  committed  by  Xavier  and 
others,  and  repeated  by  clergymen  and  whole  troops 
of  Christians.  I  have  seen  assemblies  of  Christian 
divines,  excellent  and  self-denying  men,  in  earnest 
session  and  grave  debate,  who   seemed  to  me  only 

28* 


330      CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL    SACRAMENTS. 

venerable  boys  riding  cockhorse  on  their  grandam's 
crutch. 

The  general  Christian  belief,  that  Jesus  was  the 
Son  of  God,  is  now  no  spiritual  sacrament  ;  the 
specific  belief  of  the  Catholic  or  Protestant  at  this 
day  is  worth  no  more.  Nay,  all  these  stand  in  the 
way  of  the  human  race,  and  hinder  our  march.  So 
the  outward  Christian  sacraments  —  baptism,  confir- 
mation, communion,  confession,  penance,  and  the 
rest  —  seem  to  me  only  stones  of  stumbling  in  the 
way  of  mankind ;  they  are  as  far  from  the  real  ordi- 
nances of  religion  as  dandling  a  doll  is  from  the 
mother's  holy  duty. 

The  natural  and  real  ordinance  of  religion  is  in 
general  a  manly  life,  all  the  man's  faculties  of  body 
and  spirit  developed  or  developing  in  their  natural 
and  harmonious  way,  the  body  ruled  by  the  spirit, 
its  instincts  all  in  their  places,  the  mind  active,  the 
conscience,  the  affections,  the  soul,  all  at  work  in 
their  natural  way.  Religion  is  the  sacrament  of 
religion  ;  itself  its  ordinance.  Piety  and  goodness 
are  its  substance,  and  all  normal  life  its  form.  The 
love  of  God  and  the  love  of  man,  with  all  that 
belongs  thereto,  worship  with  every  limb  of  the 
body,  every  faculty  of  the  spirit,  every  power  we 
possess  over  matter  or    men,  —  that   is   the    sacra- 


CONVENTIONAL    AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      331 

mental  substance  of  religion  ;  a  life  obedient  to  the 
love  of  God  and  of  man,  —  that  is  the  sacramental 
form  of  religion.  All  else  is  means,  provisional  ; 
this  the  end,  a  finality.  Thus  my  business,  my 
daily  work  with  the  hand,  if  an  honest  and  manly 
work,  is  the  ordinance  of  religion  to  my  body  ;  seek- 
ing and  expressing  truth  and  beauty  is  the  ordinance 
of  religion  to  my  mind  ;  doing  justice  to  all  about 
me  is  the  moral  ordinance  of  religion ;  loving  men 
is  the  natural  sacrament  of  the  affections  ;  holiness 
is  the  natural  ordinance  of  the  soul.  Putting  all 
together,  —  my  internal  consciousness  of  piety  and 
goodness,  my  outward  life  which  represents  that,  is 
the  great  natural  sacrament,  the  one  compendious 
and  universal  ordinance.  Then  my  religion  is  not 
one  thing,  and  my  life  another ;  the  two  are  one. 
Thus  religion  is  the  sacrament  of  religion,  morality 
the  test  of  piety. 

If  you  believe  God  limited  to  one  spot,  then 
that  is  counted  specifically  holy ;  and  your  religion 
draws  or  drives  you  thither.  If  you  believe  that 
religion  demands  only  certain  particular  things, 
they  will  be  thought  sacramental,  and  the  doing 
thereof  the  proof  of  religion.  But  when  you  know 
that  God  is  infinite,  is  everywhere,  then  all  space 
is  holy  ground  ;  all  days  are  holy  time  ;  all  truth  is 
God's  word  ;  all  persons  are  subjects  of  religious 
duty,   invested    with    unalienable    religious    rights, 


332      CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL    SACRAMENTS. 

and  claiming  respect  and  love  as  fellow-children 
of  the  same  dear  God.  Then,  too,  all  work  be- 
comes sacred  and  venerable ;  common  life,  your 
highest  or  your  humblest  toil,  is  your  element  of 
daily  communion  with  men,  as  your  act  of  prayer  is 
your  communion  with  the  Infinite  God. 

This  is  the  history  of  all  artificial  sacraments. 
A  man  rises  with  more  than  the  ordinary  amount  of 
religion  ;  by  the  accident  of  his  personal  character, 
or  by  some  circumstance  or  event  in  his  history,  he 
does  some  particular  thing  as  an  act  of  religion. 
To  him  it  is  such,  and  represents  his  feeling  of  peni- 
tence, or  resolution,  or  gratitude,  or  faith  in  God. 
Other  men  wish  to  be  as  religious  as  he,  and  do 
the  same  thing,  hoping  to  get  thereby  the  same 
amount  of  religion.  By  and  by  the  deed  itself  is 
mistaken  for  religion,  repeated  again  and  again. 
The  feeling  which  first  prompted  it  is  all  gone, 
the  act  becomes  merely  mechanical,  and  thus  of  no 
value. 

Thousands  of  years  ago  some  man  of  wicked 
ways  resolved  to  break  from  them  and  start  anew, 
converted  by  some  saint.  He  calls  the  neighbors 
together  at  the  side  of  the  Euphrates,  the  Jordan, 
or  the  Nile,  —  elements  which  he  deems  divine, 
—  and  plunges  in :  "  Thus  I  will  wipe  off  all  an- 
cient  sin,"    says   he ;    "  by   this   act    I  pledge    my- 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      333 

self  to  a  new  life, —  this  holy  element  is  witness 
to  my  vow ;  let  the  saints  bear  record ! "  The 
penitence  is  real,  the  resolution  is  real,  the  act  of 
self-baptism  means  something.  By  and  by  other 
penitent  men  do  the  same,  from  the  same  motive, 
struck  by  his  example.  Crowds  look  on  from 
curiosity;  a  few  idly  imitate  the  form;  then  many 
from  fashion.  Soon  it  is  all  ceremony,  and  means 
nothing.  It  is  the  property  of  the  priest ;  it  is 
cherished  still,  and  stands  in  place  of  religion. 
The  single,  momentary  dispensation  of  water  is 
thought  of  more  religious  importance  than  the 
daily  dispensation  of  righteousness.  Men  go 
leagues  long  on  pilgrimage,  —  to  dip  them  in  the 
sacred  stream,  and  return  washed,  but  not  clean ; 
baptized,  but  neither  beautiful  nor  blameless.  At 
length  it  is  thought  that  baptism,  the  poor,  out- 
ward act,  atones  for  a  life  of  conscious  sin.  Imperial 
Constantine,  hypocritical  and  murderous,  mourn- 
ing that  the  Church  will  not  twice  baptize,  is  con- 
verted, but  cunningly  postpones  his  plunge  till  old 
age,  that  he  may  sin  his  fill,  then  dip  and  die  clean 
and  new. 

So  is  it  with  all  artificial  forms.  When  they 
become  antiquated,  the  attempt  to  revive  them,  to 
put  new  life  therein,  is  always  useless  and  unnat- 
ural ;  it  is  only  a  show,  too  often  a  cheat.  At 
this   day  the   routine   of  form   is   valued   most   by 


334      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

those  who  care  only  for  the  form,  and  tread  the 
substance  underneath  their  feet.  Put  the  wijr  of 
dead  men's  hair  on  your  bald  head,  it  is  only  a 
barber's  cap,  not  nature's  graceful  covering,  and 
underneath,  the  hypocritic  head  lies  bald  and  bare. 
Put  it  on  your  head  if  you  will,  but  do  not  insist 
that  little  children  and  fair-haired  maids  shall  shear 
off  the  the  locks  of  nature,  and  hide  their  heads 
beneath  your  deceitful  handiwork.  The  boy  is 
grown  up  to  manhood,  he  rides  real  horses;  nay, 
owns,  tames,  and  rears  them  for  himself.  How 
idle  to  ask  him  to  mount  again  his  hobby,  or 
to  ride  cockhorse  on  his  grandam's  crutch  once 
more !  You  may  galvanize  the  corpse  into  mo- 
mentary and  convulsive  action,  not  into  life.  You 
may  baptize  men  by  the  thousand,  plunging  them 
in  the  Jordan  and  Euphrates,  Indus,  Ganges,  and 
Irrawaddy,  if  you  will,  surpassing  even  Ignatius 
and  Francis  Xavier.  Nay,  such  is  the  perfection 
of  the  arts,  that,  with  steam  and  Cochituate  to 
serve  you,  you  might  sprinkle  men  in  battalions, 
yea,  whole  regiments  at  a  dash.  What  boots  it  all  ? 
A  drop  of  piety  is  worth  all  the  Jordan,  Euphrates, 
Indus,  Ganges,  Irrawaddy,  —  worth  all  the  oceans 
which  the  good  God  ever  made. 

Men  love  dramatic  scenes.  Imagine,  then,  a  troop 
of  men  —  slave-traders,  kidnappers,  and  their  crew  — 
come  up  for  judgment  at  the  throne  of  Christ.    "  Be- 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      335 

hold  your  evil  deeds ! "  cries  Jesus  in  their  ears. 
"  Dear  Lord,"  say  they,  "  speak  not  of  that ;  we 
were  all  baptized,  in  manhood  or  in  infancy,  gave 
bodily  presence  at  a  church,  enrolled  our  names 
among  the  priest's  elect,  believed  the  whole  creed, 
and  took  the  sacrament  in  every  form.  What 
wouldst  thou  more,  dear  Christ?  Dost  thou  ask 
provisional  morality  of  us  ?  Are  not  these  things 
ultimate,  the  finality  of  salvation  ?  " 

I  always  look  with  pain  on  any  effort  to  put  the 
piety  of  our  times  into  the  artificial  sacraments  of 
another  and  a  ruder  age.  It  is  often  attempted, 
sometimes  with  pure  and  holy  feelings,  with  great 
self-denial ;  but  it  is  always  worthless.  The  new 
wine  of  religion  must  be  put  into  new  bottles.  See 
what  improvements  are  yearly  made  in  science,  in 
agriculture,  weaving,  ship-building,  in  medicine,  in 
every  art.  Shall  there  be  none  in  religion,  none  in 
the  application  of  its  great  sentiments  to  daily  life  ? 
Shall  we  improve  only  in  our  ploughs,  not  also  in 
the  forms  of  piety  ? 

At  this  day  great  pains  are  taken  to  put  religion 
into  artificial  sacraments,  which,  alas !  have  no  con- 
nection with  a  manly  life.  I  do  not  know  of  a  score 
of  ministers  devoting  their  time  and  talents  solely  to 
the  advancement  of  natural  piety  and  natural  moral- 
ity. I  know  of  hundreds  who  take  continual  pains 
to    promote   those    artificial   sacraments,  —  earnest, 


336      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

devout,  and  self-denying  men.  Why  is  this  so  ?  It 
is  because  they  think  the  ceremony  is  religion ;  not 
religion's  accidental  furniture,  but  religion  itself.  It 
is  painful  to  see  such  an  amount  of  manly  and 
earnest  effort,  of  toil  and  self-denial  and  prayer,  de- 
voted to  an  end  so  little  worth.  The  result  is  very 
painful,  more  so  than  the  process  itself. 

We  call  ourselves  a  Christian  people,  a  religious 
nation.  Why  ?  Are  we  a  religious  people  because 
the  heart  of  the  nation  is  turned  towards  God  and 
his  holy  law  ?  The  most  prominent  churches  just 
now  have  practically  told  us,  that  there  is  no  law  of 
God  above  the  statute  politicians  write  on  parch- 
ment in  the  Capitol ;  that  Congress  is  higher  than 
the  Almighty,  the  President  a  finality;  and  that 
God  must  hide  his  head  behind  the  Compromise! 
Is  it  because  the  highest  talent  of  the  nation,  its 
ablest  zeal,  its  stoutest  heroism,  is  religious  in  its 
motive,  religious  in  its  aim,  religious  in  its  means, 
religious  in  its  end  ?  Nobody  pretends  that.  A 
respectable  man  would  be  thought  crazy,  and  called 
a  "  fanatic,"  who  should  care  much  for  religion  in 
any  of  its  higher  forms.  Self-denial  for  popularity 
and  for  money  or  office,  —  that  is  common;  it 
abounds  in  every  street.  Self-denial  for  religion, — 
is  that  so  common?  Are  we  called  Christians  be- 
cause we  value  the  character  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
and  wish  to  be  like  him  ?     Is  it  the  ambition  of  cal- 


CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      337 

culating  fathers,  that  their  sons  be  closely  like  the 
friend  of  publicans  and  sinners  ?  Nay,  is  it  the  am- 
bition of  reverend  and  most  Christian  clergymen  to 
be  like  him  ?  —  I  mean,  to  think  with  the  freedom 
he  thought  withal ;  to  be  just  with  such  severe  and 
beauteous  righteousness ;  to  love  with  such  affec- 
tion, —  so  strong,  yet  so  tender,  so  beautiful,  so  wide, 
so  womanly  and  deep  ?  Is  it  to  have  faith  in  God 
like  his  absolute  trust ;  a  faith  in  God's  person  and 
his  function  too ;  a  faith  in  truth,  in  justice,  in  holi- 
ness, and  love  ;  a  faith  in  God  as  Cause  and  Provi- 
dence, in  man  as  the  effect  and  child  of  God  ?  Is  it 
the  end  of  laymen  and  clergymen  to  produce  such  a 
religion,  —  to  build  up  and  multiply  Christians  of 
that  manly  sort  ? 

Compliance  with  forms  is  made  the  test  of  piety, 
its  indispensable  condition.  These  forms  are  com- 
monly twofold  :  liturgical,  —  compliance  with  the 
ritual;  dogmatical,  —  compliance  with  the  creed.  It 
is  not  shown  that  the  rite  has  a  universal,  natural 
connection  with  piety ;  only  that  it  was  once  histor- 
ically connected  with  a  pious  man.  Nobody  thinks 
that  circumcision,  baptism,  or  taking  the  Lord's  sup^ 
per,  has  a  natural  and  indispensable  connection  with 
piety ;  only  it  is  maintained  that  these  things  have 
been  practised  by  pious  men,  and  so  are  imposed  on 
others  by  their  authority.     It  is  not  shown  that  the 

29 


338      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

creed  has  its  foundation  in  the  nature  of  man,  still 
less  in  the  nature  of  God  ;  only  that  it  rested  once 
in  the  consciousness  of  some  pious  man,  and  has 
also  been  imposed  on  us  by  authority.  So,  it  is  not 
shown  that  these  tests  have  any  natural  connection 
with  religion ;  only  that  they  once  had  an  histori- 
cal connection  ;  and  that,  of  course,  was  either  tem- 
porary, naturally  ending  with  the  stage  of  civiliza- 
tion which  it  belonged  to,  or  even  personal,  peculiar 
to  the  man  it  begun  with. 

Yet  it  is  remarkable  how  much  those  temporary 
•or  mere  personal  expedients  are  set  up  as  indispen- 
sable conditions  and  exclusive  tests  of  piety.  The 
Catholic  Church,  on  the  whole,  is  an  excellent  insti- 
tution ;  Christendom  could  no  more  do  without  it, 
than  Europe  dispense  with  monarchies ;  but  the 
steadfast  Catholic  must  say,  "  Out  of  the  Church 
there  is  no  piety,  no  religion  beyond  the  Church's 
ritual  and  creed."  The  Protestant  churches  are,  on 
the  whole,  an  excellent  institution ;  Christendom 
could  no  more  dispense  with  them,  than  New  Eng- 
land with  her  almshouses  and  jails  ;  but  the  steadfast 
Protestant  will  say,  "  There  can  be  no  piety  without 
accepting  the  Bible  as  the  word  of  God,  no  saving 
religion  without  faith  in  the  letter  of  Scripture." 
Not  only  has  the  Catholic  his  Shibboleth,  and  the 
Protestant  his,  but  each  sect  its  own.  The  Calvinist 
says,  "  There  is  no  piety  without  a  belief  in  the  Trin- 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      339 

ity."  The  Unitarians  say,  "  There  is  no  piety  with- 
out a  belief  in  the  miracles  of  the  New  Testament." 
The  Jews  require  a  knowledge  of  Moses ;  Mahome- 
tans, a  reverence  for  their  prophet;  and  Christians, 
in  general,  agree  there  is  no  "  saving  piety  "  without 
submissive  reverence  to  Christ.  The  late  Dr.  Ar- 
nold, a  most  enlightened  and  religious  man,  declared 
that  he  had  no  knowledge  of  God  except  as  mani- 
fested through  Jesus  Christ.  Yet  all  the  wide  world 
over,  everywhere,  men  know  of  God  and  worship 
Him,  —  the  savage  fearing,  while  the  enlightened 
learns  to  love. 

Since  compliance  with  the  ritual  and  the  creed  is 
made  the  sole  and  exclusive  test  of  piety,  religious 
teachers  aim  to  produce  this  compliance  in  both 
kinds,  and  succeeding  therein,  are  satisfied  that 
piety  dwells  in  their  disciples'  heart.  But  the  ritual 
compliance  may  be  purely  artificial ;  not  something 
which  grows  out  of  the  man,  but  sticks  on.  The 
compliance  with  the  doctrine  may  be  apparent,  and 
not  real  at  all.  The  word  belief  is  taken  in  a  good 
many  senses.  It  does  not  always  mean  a  total  ex- 
perience of  the  doctrine,  a  realizing  sense  thereof ; 
not  always  an  intellectual  conviction.  They  often 
are  the  best  believers  of  the  creed  who  have  the 
least  experience  in  the  love  of  God,  but  little  intel- 
lect, and  have  made  no  investigation  of  the  matter 
credited.     Belief  often  means  only  that  the  believer 


340      CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

does  not  openly  reject  the  doctrine  he  is  said  to 
hold.  So  the  thing  thus  believed  is  not  always  a 
new  branch  growing  out  of  the  old  bole  ;  nor  is  it  a 
foreign  scion  grafted  in,  and  living  out  of  the  old 
stock,  as  much  at  home  as  if  a  native  there,  and 
bearing  fruit  after  its  better  kind  ;  it  is  merely  stuck 
into  the  bark  of  the  old  tree,  — nay,  often  not  even 
that,  but  only  lodged  in  the  branches,  —  fruitless, 
leafless,  lifeless,  and  dry  as  a  stick,  —  a  deformity, 
and  without  use. 

In  this  way  it  comes  to  pass  that  compliance  with 
the  rite,  and  belief  in  a  doctrine,  which  in  some 
men  were  the  result  of  a  long  life  of  piety  and  hard 
struggle,  actually  mean  nothing  at  all.  So  that  the 
ritual  and  the  creed  have  no  more  effect  in  pro- 
moting the  "  convert's "  piety  and  morality,  than 
would  belief  in  the  multiplication-table  and  the 
habit  of  saying  it  over.  You  are  surprised  that  the 
doctrines  of  Christ  do  not  affect  the  Christian,  and 
ceremonies  which  once  revolutionized  the  heart  they 
were  born  in,  now  leave  the  worshipper  as  cold  as 
the  stone  beneath  his  knee.  Be  not  astonished  at 
the  result.  The  marble  does  not  feel  the  com- 
mandments which  are  graven  there  ;  the  commun- 
ion chalice  never  tastes  the  consecrated  wine. 
The  marble  and  metal  are  only  mechanical  in  their 
action ;  it  was  not  meant  that  they  should  taste  or 
feel. 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      341 

Then  piety,  as  a  sentiment,  is  taken  as  the  whole 
of  religion  ;  its  end  is  in  itself.  The  tests,  liturgical 
or  dogmatic,  show  that  piety  is  in  the  man;  all  he 
has  next  to  do  is  to  increase  the  quantity.  The 
proof  of  that  increase  is  a  greatening  of  love  for  the 
form  and  for  the  doctrine  ;  the  habit  of  dawdling 
about  the  one  and  talking  about  the  other.  The 
sentiment  of  religion  is  allowed  to  continue  a  sen- 
timent, and  nothing  more  ;  soon  it  becomes  less,  a 
sentimentalism,  a  sickly  sentiment  which  will  never 
beget  a  deed. 

It  is  a  good  thing  to  get  up  pious  feeling ;  there 
is  no  danger  we  shall  have  too  much  of  that.  But 
the  feeling  should  lead  to  a  thought,  the  thought  to 
a  deed,  else  it  is  of  small  value ;  at  any  rate,  it  does 
not  do  all  of  its  work  for  the  individual,  and  noth- 
ing for  any  one  beside.  This  religious  sentimen- 
tality is  called  Mysticism  or  Pietism,  in  the  bad 
sense  of  those  two  words.  In  most  of  the  churches 
which  have  a  serious  purpose,  and  are  not  content 
with  the  mere  routine  of  office,  it  is  a  part  of  the 
pastor's  aim  to  produce  piety,  the  love  of  God. 
That  is  right,  for  piety,  in  its  wide  sense,  is  the 
foundation  of  all  manly  excellence.  But  in  general 
they  seem  to  know  only  these  liturgical  and  dog- 
matic tests  of  piety ;  hence  they  aim  to  have  piety 
put  in  that  conventional  form,  and  reject  with  scorn 

29* 


342      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS. 

all  other  and   natural  modes  of  expressing  love  to 
iGod. 

It  is  a  good  thing  to  aim  to  produce  piety,  a 
great  good  :  an  evil,  to  limit  in  this  way  ;  a  great 
evil,  not  to  leave  it  free  to  take  its  natural  form  ;  a 
very  great  evil,  to  keep  it  indoors  so  long,  that  it 
.becomes  sick  and  good  for  nothing,  not  daring  to  go 
out  at  all. 

It    is    remarkable    how   often    ecclesiastical   men 
make  this  mistake.     They  judge  a  man  to  be  relig- 
ious  or   otherwise,  solely  by  this  test.     You   hear 
strict  ministers  speak  of  a  layman  as  an  "  amiable 
man,"  but  "  not  pious."     They   do  not  know  that 
amiableness  is  one  form  of  natural  piety,  and  that 
the  more  piety  a  man  gets,  the  more  amiable  he 
becomes.     The  piety  which  they  know  Jias  no  con- 
nection with  honesty,  none   with  friendship,  none 
with  philanthropy ;    its  only  relations  are  with  the 
ritual   and   creed.      When    the    late   John    Quincy 
Adams  died,  his  piety  was  one  topic  of  commen- 
dation in   most  of  the  many  sermons  preached  in 
memory  of  the  man.     What  was  the  proof  or  sign 
of  that  piety  ?     Scarcely  any  one    found  it   in  his 
integrity,  which  had  not  failed  for  many  a  year ;  or 
.his  faithful  attendance  on  his  political  duty ;  or  his 
unflinching  love  of  liberty,  and  the  noble  war  the 
aged  champion    fought   for   the  unalienable   rights 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      343 

of  man.  No  !  They  found  the  test  in  the  fact  that 
he  was  a  member  of  a  church  ;  that  he  went  to 
meeting,  and  was  more  decorous  than  most  men 
while  there  ;  that  he  daily  read  the  Bible,  and  re- 
peated each  night  a  simple  and  beautiful  little 
prayer,  which  mothers  teach  their  babes  of  grace. 
No  "  regular  minister,"  I  think,  found  the  proof  of 
his  piety  in  his  zeal  for  man's  welfare,  in  the  clean- 
ness of  his  life,  and  hands  which  never  took  a  bribe. 
One,  I  remember,  found  a  sign  of  that  piety  in  the 
fact,  that  he  never  covered  his  reverend  head  till 
fairly  out  of  church  ! 

You  remember  the  Orthodox  judgment  on  Dr. 
Charming.  Soon  after  his  death,  it  was  declared  in 
a  leading  Trinitarian  journal  of  America,  that  with- 
out doubt  he  had  gone  to  the  place  of  torment,  to 
expiate  the  sin  of  denying  the  Deity  of  Christ.  All 
the  noble  life  of  that  great  and  good  and  loving  man 
was  not  thought  equal  to  the  formal  belief,  that  the 
Jesus  of  the  Gospels  is  the  Jehovah  of  the  Psalms. 

After  ecclesiastical  men  produce  their  piety,  they 
do  not  aim  to  set  it  to  do  the  natural  work  of  man- 
kind. Morality  is  not  thought  to  be  the  proof  of 
piety,  nor  even  the  sign  of  it.  They  dam  up  the 
stream  of  human  nature  till  they  have  got  a  suffi- 
cient head  of  piety,  and  then,  instead  of  setting  it 
to  turn  the  useful  mill  of  life,  or  even  drawing  it  off 
to  water  the  world's  dry  grounds,  they  let  the  waters 


344      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS. 

run  over  the  dam,  promoting  nothing  but  sectarian 
froth  and  noise;  or,  if  it  be  allowed  to  turn  the 
wheels,  it  must  not  grind  sound  corn  for  human 
bread,  but  chiefly  rattle  the  clapper  of  the  theologic 
mill. 

The  most  serious  sects  in  America  now  and  then 
have  a  revival.  The  aim  is  to  produce  pietism ; 
but  commonly  you  do  not  find  the  subjects  of  a  re- 
vival more  disposed  to  morality  after  that  than 
before ;  it  is  but  seldom  they  are  better  sons  or  more 
loving  lovers,  partners  or  parents  more  faithful  than 
before.  It  is  only  the  ritual  and  the  creed  which 
they  love  the  better.  Intelligent  men  of  the  serious 
sects  will  tell  you,  such  revivals  do  more  harm  than 
good,  because  the  feelings  are  excited  unnaturally, 
and  then  not  directed  to  their  appropriate,  useful 
work. 

The  most  important  actual  business  of  the  clergy 
is,  first,  to  keep  up  the  present  amount  of  morality. 
All  sects  agree  in  that  work,  and  do  a  service  by  the 
attempt.  For  there  are  always  sluggish  men,  slum- 
berers,  who  need  to  be  awaked,  loiterers,  who  must 
be  called  out  to,  and  hurried  forward.  Next,  it  is  to 
produce  piety,  try  it  by  these  tests,  and  put  it  into 
these  forms.  All  sects  likewise  agree  in  that,  and 
therein  they  do  good,  and  a  great  good.  But  after 
the  piety  is  produced,  it  is  not  wholly  natural  piety, 


CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      345 

nor  do  they  aim  to  apply  it  to  the  natural  work 
thereof. 

Such  is  the  most  important  business  of  the  pulpit, 
—  almost  its  only  business.  Hence  unpopular  vices, 
vices  below  the  average  virtue  of  society,  get  abun- 
dantly preached  at.  And  popular  virtues,  virtues  up 
to  the  average  of  society,  get  abundantly  praised. 
But  popular  vices  go  unvvhipped,  and  unpopular 
virtues  all  unhonored  pass  the  pulpit  by.  The  great 
Dagon  of  the  popular  idolatry  stands  there  in  the 
market-place,  to  receive  the  servile  and  corrupting 
homage  of  the  crowd,  dashing  the  little  ones  to  ruin 
at  his  feet ;  the  popular  priest  is  busy  with  his  Phil- 
istine pietism,  and  never  tells  the  people  that  it  is  an 
idol,  and  not  God,  which  they  adore.  It  is  not  his 
function  to  do  that.  Hence  a  man  of  more  than 
the  average  excellence,  more  than  the  average  wis- 
dom, justice,  philanthropy,  or  faith  in  God,  and  reso- 
lutely bent  on  promoting  piety  and  morality  in  all 
their  forms,  is  thought  out  of  place  in  a  sectarian 
pulpit;  and  is  just  as  much  out  of  place  there,  as  a 
Unitarian  would  be  in  a  Trinitarian  pulpit,  or  a  Cal- 
vinist  in  a  Unitarian,  —  as  much  so  as  a  weaver  of 
broadcloth  would  be  in  a  mill  for  making  ribbons  or 
gauze. 

Hence,  too,  it  comes  to  pass,  that  it  is  not  thought 
fit  to  attack  popular  errors  in  the  pulpit,  nor  speak  of 
wide  spread  public  sins ;  not  even  to  expose  the  fault 


346      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

of  your  own  denomination  to  itself.  The  sins  of 
Unitarians  may  be  aimed  at  only  from  Trinitarian 
pulpits.  It  is  not  lawful  for  a  sect  to  be  instructed 
by  a  friend.  The  sins  of  commerce  must  not  be  re- 
buked in  a  trading  town.  In  time  of  war  we  must 
not  plead  for  peace.  The  sins  of  politics  the  minis- 
ter must  never  touch.  Why  not  ?  Because  they  are 
"  actual  sins  of  the  times,"  and  his  kingdom  "  is  not 
of  this  world."  Decorous  ministers  are  ordained  and 
appointed  to  apologize  for  respectable  iniquity,  and 
to  eulogize  every  wicked  but  popular,  great  man. 
So  long  as  the  public  sepulchres  may  not  be  cleansed, 
there  must  be  priestly  Pharisees  to  wash  their  out- 
side white.  The  Northern  priest  is  paid  to  conse- 
crate the  tyranny  of  capital,  as  the  Southern  to  con- 
secrate the  despotism  of  the  master  over  his  negro 
slave.  Men  say  you  must  not  touch  the  actual  sins 
of  the  times  in  a  pulpit,  —  it  would  hurt  men's  feel- 
ings ;  and  they  must  not  be  disquieted  from  their 
decorous,  their  solemn,  their  accustomed  sleep. 
"  You  must  preach  the  Gospel,  young  fanatic," 
quoth  the  world.  And  that  means  preaching  the 
common  doctrines  so  as  to  convict  no  man's  con- 
science of  any  actual  sin;  then  press  out  a  little 
pietism,  and  decant  it  off  into  the  old  leathern  bot- 
tles of  the  Church. 

The  late  Mr.  Polk  affords  a  melancholy  example 
of  the  effect  of  this  mode  of  proceeding.     On  his 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      347 

death-bed,  when  a  man  ought  to  have  nothing  to  do 
but  to  die,  the  poor  man  remembers  that  he  has 
"  not  been  baptized,"  wishes  to  know  if  there  is  any 
"  hope  "  for  him,  receives  the  dispensation  of  water 
in  the  usual  form,  and  is  thought  to  die  "  a  Chris- 
tian !  "  What  a  sad  sign  of  the  state  of  religion 
amongst  us !  To  him  or  to  his  advisers  it  did  not 
seem  to  occur,  that,  if  we  live  right,  it  is  of  small 
consequence  how  we  die  ;  that  a  life  full  of  duties  is 
the  real  baptism  in  the  name  of  man  and  God,  and 
the  sign  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  churches  never 
taught  him  so.  But  snivelling  at  the  end  is  not  a 
Christian  and  a  manly  death. 

The  effect  of  getting  up  the  feeling  of  piety,  and 
stopping  with  that,  is  like  the  effect  of  reading  nov- 
els and  nothing  else.  Thereby  the  feelings  of  be- 
nevolence, of  piety,  of  hope,  of  joy,  are  excited,  but 
lead  to  no  acts ;  the  character  becomes  enervated, 
the  mind  feeble,  the  conscience  inert,  the  will  im- 
potent ;  the  heart,  long  wont  to  weep  at  the  novel- 
ist's unreal  woes,  at  sorrows  in  silk  and  fine  linen,  is 
harder  than  Pharaoh's  when  a  dirty  Irish  girl  asks 
for  a  loaf  in  the  name  of  God,  or  when  a  sable 
mother  begs  money  wherewith  to  save  her  daughter 
from  the  seraglios  of  New  Orleans.  Self-denial  for 
the  sake  of  noble  enterprise  is  quite  impossible  to 
such.     All  the  great  feelings  naturally  lead  to  com- 


348      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS. 

mensurate  deeds ;  to  excite  the  feeling  and  leave  un- 
done the  deed,  is  baneful  in  the  extreme. 

I  do  not  say  novels  are  not  good  reading  and 
profitable  ;  they  are,  just  so  far  as  they  stimulate  the 
intellect,  the  conscience,  the  affections,  the  soul,  to 
healthful  action,  and  set  the  man  to  work  ;  but  just 
so  far  as  they  make  you  content  with  mere  feeling, 
and  constrain  the  feeling  to  be  nothing  but  feeling, 
they  are  pernicious.  Such  reading  is  mental  dissi- 
pation. To  excite  the  devotional  feelings,  to  pro- 
duce a  great  love  of  God,  and  not  allow  that  to 
become  work,  is  likewise  dissipation,  all  the  more 
pernicious,  —  dissipation  of  the  conscience,  of  the 
soul.  .  I  do  not  say  it  comes  in  the  name  of  self-in- 
dulgence, as  the  other  ;  it  is  often  begun  in  the 
name  of  self-denial,  and  achieved  at  great  cost  of 
self-denial  too. 

Profligacy  of  the  religious  sentiment,  voluptuous- 
ness with  God,  is  the  most  dangerous  of  luxuries. 
Novel-reading,  after  the  fashion  hinted  at,  is  highly 
dangerous.  How  many  youths  and  maidens  are 
seriously  hurt  thereby !  But  as  far  as  I  can  judge, 
in  all  Christendom  there  are  more  that  suffer  from 
this  spiritual  dissoluteness.  I  speak  less  to  censure 
than  to  warn.  I  hate  to  see  a  man  uncharitable, 
dishonest,  selfish,  mean,  and  sly,  —  "for  ever  stand- 
ing on  his  guard  and  watching  "  unto  fraud.     I  am 


CONVENTIONAL  AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      349 

sorry  to  hear  of  a  woman  given  up  to  self-indul- 
gence, accomplished,  but  without  the  highest  grace, 
—  womanly  good  works,  —  luxurious,  indolent, 
"  born  to  consume  the  corn,"  — that  is  bad  enough. 
But  when  I  learn  that  this  hard  man  is  a  class 
leader,  and  has  "  the  gift  of  prayer,"  is  a  famous 
hand  at  a  conference,  the  builder  of  churches,  a 
great  defender  of  ecclesiastical  doctrines  and  devo- 
tional forms,  that  he  cries  out  upon  every  heresy, 
banning  men  in  the  name  of  God  ;  when  I  hear 
that  this  luxurious  woman  delights  in  mystic  devo- 
tion, and  has  a  wantonness  of  prayer,  —  it  makes 
me  far  more  sad;  and  there  is  then  no  hope!  The 
kidnapper  at  his  court  is  a  loathly  thing ;  but  the 
same  kidnapper  at  his  "  communion !  "  —  great  God ! 
and  has  thy  Church  become  so  low !  Let  us  turn 
off  our  eyes  and  look  away. 

Hence  it  comes  to  pass,  that  much  of  all  this 
ecclesiastic  pains  to  produce  piety  is  abortive  ;  it 
ends  in  sickness  and  routine.  Men  who  have  the 
reputation  of  piety  in  a  vulgar  sense  are  the  last 
men  you  would  look  to  for  any  great  good  work. 
They  will  not  oppose  slavery  and  war  and  lust  of 
land,  —  national  sins  that  are  popular ;  nor  intem- 
perance and  excessive  love  of  gold,  —  popular,  per- 
sonal, and  social  sins.  They  would  not  promote 
the  public  education  of  the  people,  and  care  not  to 
raise  woman  to  her  natural  equality  with  man.     "  It 

30 


350      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

is  no  part  of  piety  to  do  such  things,"  say  they  ; 
"  we  are  not  under  the  covenant  of  works,  but  of 
grace  only.  What  care  we  for  painful  personal 
righteousness,  which  profiteth  little,  when  only  the 
imputed  can  save  us,  and  that  so  swiftly !  " 

Nay,  they  hinder  all  these  great  works.  The  bit- 
terest opposition  to  the  elevation  of  all  men  is  made 
in  the  name  of  devotion ;  so  is  the  defence  of 
slavery  and  war,  and  the  flat  degradation  of  wo- 
man. Here  is  a  church,  which  at  a  public  meeting 
solemnly  instructs  its  minister  elect  not  to  preach 
on  politics,  or  on  the  subjects  of  reform.  They 
want  him  to  "  preach  piety,"  "  nothing  but  piety," 
"evangelical  piety;"  not  a  weekday  piety  but  a 
Sabbath  piety,  which  is  up  and  at  church  once  in 
seven  days,  —  keeps  her  pew  of  a  Sunday,  but  her 
bed  all  the  week,  —  ghastly,  lean,  dyspeptic,  cough- 
ing, bowed  together,  and  in  nowise  able  to  lift  up 
herself. 

Hence  "piety"  gets  a  bad  reputation  amongst 
philanthropists,  as  it  serves  to  hinder  the  develop- 
ment of  humanity.  Even  amongst  men  of  business 
a  reputation  for  "  piety  "  would  make  a  new  comer 
distrusted  ;  the  money-lender  would  look  more  care- 
fully to  his  collateral  security. 

At  Blenheim  and  at  Windsor  you  will  find 
clipped  yew-trees,  cut  into  the  shape  of  hearts  and 
diamonds,  nay,  of  lions  and  eagles,  looking  like  any 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.       351 

thing  but  trees.  So  in  Boston,  in  all  New  Eng- 
land, everywhere  in  Christendom,  you  find  clipped 
men,  their  piety  cut  into  various  artificial  forms, 
looking  like  any  thing  but  men.  The  saints  of  the 
popular  theology,  what  are  they  good  for  ?  For 
belief  and  routine,  —  for  all  of  religion  save  only 
real  piety  and  morality. 

Persons  of  this  stamp  continually  disappoint 
us.  You  expect  manly  work,  and  cannot  get  it 
done.  Did  you  ever  see  little  children  play  "  Mon- 
ey ? "  They  clasp  their  hands  together  and  strike 
them  gently  on  their  knee ;  the  elastic  air  com- 
pressed by  this  motion  sounds  like  the  jingling  of 
small  silver  coin.  You  open  the  hand :  there  is 
nothing  in  it,  —  not  small  money  enough  to  buy  a 
last  year's  walnut  or  a  blueberry.  It  was  only 
the  jingle  of  the  money,  —  all  of  money  but  the 
money's  worth.  So  is  this  unnatural  form  of 
piety;  it  has  the  jingle  of  godliness,  and  seems  just 
as  good  as  real  piety,  until  you  come  to  spend  it; 
then  it  is  good  for  nothing, — it  will  not  pass  any- 
where amongst  active  men.  A  handful  of  it  comes 
to  nothing.  Alas  me  !  the  children  play  at  "  Money," 
and  call  it  sport;  men  grown  play  with  a  similar 
delusion,  and  call  it  the  worship  of  God. 

Now  there  is  much  of  this  false  piety  in  the 
world,  produced  by  this  false  notion,  that  there  are 
only  these  two  tests  of  piety.     It  leads  to  a  great 


352      CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

deal  of  mischief.  Men  are  deceived  who  look  to 
you  for  work  ;  you  yourself  are  deceived  in  hoping 
for  peace,  beauty,  comfort,  and  gladness,  from  such 
a  deception. 

"  So,  floating  down  a  languid  stream, 
The  lily-leaves  oft  lilies  seem, 
Reflecting  back  the  whitened  beam 

Of  morning's  slanting  sun  ;  — 
But  as  I  near  and  nearer  came, 
I  missed  the  lily's  fragrant  flame,  — 

The  gay  deceit  was  done. 
No  snow-white  lily  blossomed  fair, 
There  came  no  perfume  on  the  air  ; 
Only  an  idle  leaf  lay  there, 

And  wantoned  in  the  sun." 

Under  these  circumstances,  piety  dies  away  till 
there  is  nothing  left  but  the  name  and  the  form. 
There  is  the  ritual,  the  belief,  such  as  it  is,  but 
nothing  else.  It  is  the  symbol  of  narrowness  and 
bigotry,  often  of  self-conceit,  sometimes  of  envy 
and  malice  and  all  uncharitableness.  It  leads  to 
no  outward  work,  it  produces  no  inward  satisfac- 
tion, no  harmony  with  yourself,  no  concord  with 
your  brother,  no  unity  with  God.  It  leads  to  no 
real  and  natural  tranquillity,  no  income  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  no  access  of  new  being,  no  rest  in 
God.  There  is  the  form  of  godliness,  and  nothing 
of  its  power.     Some  earnest-minded  men  see  this, 


CONVENTIONAL    AND    NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.       353 

and  are  disgusted  with  all  that  bears  the  name  of 
religion.  Do  you  wonder  at  this  ?  Remove  the 
cause,  as  well  as  blame  the  consequence. 


If  pains  be  taken  to  cultivate  piety,  and,  as  it 
grows  up,  if  it  be  left  to  its  own  natural  develop- 
ment, it  will  have  its  own  form  of  manifestation. 
The  feeling  of  love  to  God,  the  Infinite  Object,  will 
not  continue  a  mere  feeling.  Directed  to  the  Infi- 
nite Object,  it  will  be  directed  also  towards  men, 
and  become  a  deed.  As  you  love  God  the  more, 
you  must  also  love  men  the  more,  and  so  must 
serve  them  better.  Your  prayer  will  not  content 
you,  though  beautiful  as  David's  loftiest  Psalm ; 
you  must  put  it  into  a  practice  more  lovely  yet. 
Then  your  prayer  will  help  you,  your  piety  be  a 
real  motive,  a  perpetual  blessing.  It  will  increase 
continually,  rising  as  prayer  to  come  down  again 
as  practice,  —  will  first  raise  "  a  mortal  to  the  skies," 
then  draw  that  angel  down.  So  the  water  which 
rises  in  electric  ecstasy  to  heaven,  and  gleams  in 
the  rising  or  descending  sun,  comes  down  as 
simple  dew  and  rain,  to  quiet  the  dust  in  the  com- 
mon road,  to  cool  the  pavement  of  the  heated  town, 
to  wash  away  the  unhealthiness  of  city  lanes,  and 
nurse  the  common  grass  which  feeds  the  horses  and 
the  kine. 

30* 


354      CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

At  the  beginning  of  your  growth  in  piety,  there 
is,  doubtless,  need  of  forms,  of  special  time  and 
place.  There  need  not  be  another's  form,  or  there 
may  be,  just  as  you  like.  The  girl  learning  to 
write  imitates  carefully  each  mark  on  the  copy, 
thinking  of  the  rules  for  holding  the  pen.  But  as 
you  grow,  you  think  less  of  the  form,  of  the  sub- 
stance more.  So  the  pen  becomes  not  a  mere  in- 
strument, but  almost  a  limb ;  the  letters  are  formed 
even  without  a  thought.  Without  the  form,  you 
have  the  effect  thereof. 

If  there  be  piety  in  the  heart,  and  it  be  allowed 
to  live  and  grow  and  attain  its  manly  form,  it  will 
quicken  every  noble  faculty  in  man.  Morality  will 
not  be  dry,  and  charity  will  not  be  cold ;  the  reason 
will  not  grovel  with  mere  ideas,  nor  the  understand- 
ing with  calculations ;  the  shaft  of  wit  will  lose  its 
poison,  merriment  its  levity,  common  life  its  tedium. 
Disappointment,  sorrow,  suffering,  will  not  break  the 
heart,  which  will  find  soothing  and  comfort  in  its 
saddest  woe.  The  consciousness  of  error,  that 
vexes  oft  the  noble  soul,  will  find  some  compen- 
sation for  its  grief.  Remorse,  which  wounds  men 
so  sadly  and  so  sore,  will  leave  us  the  sweetest 
honey,  gleaned  up  from  the  flowers  we  trod  upon 
when  we  should  have  gathered  their  richness,  and 
happily  will  sting  us  out  of  our  offence. 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      355 

The    common    test   of    Christianity   is    not   the 
natural  sacrament ;  it  is  only  this  poor  conventional 
thins.     Look  at  this.     The  land  is  full  of  Bibles.     I 
am  glad  of  it.     I  am  no  worshipper  of  the  Bible,  yet 
I  reverence  its  wisdom,  I  honor  its  beauty  of  holi- 
ness, and  love  exceedingly  the  tranquil  trust  in  God 
which    its  great   authors    had.     Some   of  the   best 
things  that  I  have  ever  learned  from  man  this  book 
has   taught  me.     Think  of  the  great  souls  in  this 
Hebrew  Old  Testament  ;  of  the  two  great  men  in 
the   New,  —  Jesus,  who   made   the   great   religious 
motion  in  the   world's  parliament,  and  Paul,  who 
supported  it !      I   am    glad    the    Bible   goes  every- 
where.    But  men  take  it  for  master,  not  for  help  ; 
read  it  as  a    sacrament,  not  to  get  a  wiser  and  a 
higher  light.     They  worship  its  letter,  and  the  bet- 
ter spirit  of  Moses,  of  Esaias,  of  the  Holy  Psalms, 
so  old    and   yet   so  young,   so   everlasting  in  their 
beauteous  faith  in  God,  —  the  sublime  spirit  of  one 
greater  than  the  temple,   and  lord  of  the  Sabbath, 
who  scorned  to  put  the  new  wine   of  God  into  the 
old  and  rotten  bags  of  men  —  that  is  not  in  Christen- 
dom.    O,  no !  men  do  not  ask  for  that.     The  yeasty 
soul  would  rend  asunder  tradition's  leathern  bags. 
Worship  of  Bibles  never  made  men  write  Bibles  ; 
it  hinders  us  from  living  them.     Worship  no  things 
for   that  ;    not   the    created,    but,    O    Creator !     let 


356      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

us  worship  Thee.  Catholicism  is  worship  of  a 
church,  instead  of  God  ;  Protestantism  is  worship 
of  a  book.  Both  could  not  generate  a  Jesus  or  a 
Moses. 

For  proof  of  religion  men  appeal  to  our  churches, 
built  by  the  self-denial  of  hard-working  men.  They 
prove  nothing,  —  nay,  nothing  at  all.  The  polyga- 
mous Mormons  far  outdo  the  Christians  in  their 
zeal.  The  throng  of  men  attending  church  is  small 
proof  of  religion.  Think  of  the  vain  things  which 
lead  men  to  this  church  or  to  that;  of  the  vain 
thoughts  which  fill  them  there ;  of  the  vain  words 
they  hear,  or  which  are  only  spoke,  not  even  heard! 
What  a  small  amount  of  real  piety  and  real  moral- 
ity is  needed  to  make  up  a  popular  "  Christian ! " 
Alas !  we  have  set  up  an  artificial  sacrament  ;  we 
comply  with  that,  then  call  ourselves  religious,  — 
yea,  Christians.  We  try  ecclesiastic  metal  by  its 
brassy  look  and  brassy  ring,  then  stamp  it  with 
the  popular  image  of  our  idolatry,  and  it  passes  cur- 
rent in  the  shop,  tribute  fit  for  Caesar.  The  humble 
publican  of  the  parable,  not  daring  to  lift  up  his 
eyes  to  heaven  ;  the  poor  widow,  with  her  two 
mites  that  made  a  farthing  ;  the  outcast  Samari- 
tan, with  his  way-side  benevolence  to  him  that  fell 
among  the  thieves,  —  might  shame  forth  from  the 
Christian  Church  each  Pharisee  who  drops  his 
minted  and  his   jingling  piety,   with   brassy   noise, 


CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      357 

into  the  public  chest.  Render  unto  Caesar  the 
things  that  be  Caesar's. 

The  real  test  of  religion  is  its  natural  sacrament, 
—  is  life.  To  know  whom  you  worship,  let  me  see 
you  in  your  shop,  let  me  overhear  you  in  your  trade ; 
let  me  know  how  you  rent  your  houses,  how  you 
get  your  money,  how  you  keep  it,  or  how  it  is  spent. 
It  is  easy  to  pass  the  Sunday  idle,  idly  lounging  in 
the  twilight  of  idle  words,  or  basking  in  the  sun- 
shine of  some  strong  man's  most  earnest  speech.  It 
is  easy  to  repeat  the  words  of  David,  or  of  Jesus, 
and  to  call  it  prayer.  But  the  sacramental  test  of 
your  religion  is  not  your  Sunday  idly  spent,  not  the 
words  of  David  or  of  Jesus  that  you  repeat;  it  is 
your  weekday  life,  your  works,  and  not  your  words. 
Tried  by  this  natural  test,  the  Americans  are  a  hea- 
then people,  not  religious  ;  far,  far  from  that.  Com- 
pare us  with  the  Chinese  by  the  artificial  standard 
of  the  missionary,  we  are  immensely  above  them  ; 
by  the  natural  sacrament  of  obedience  to  the  law  of 
God,  how  much  is  the  Christian  before  the  heathen 
man  ? 

The  national  test  of  religion  is  the  nation's  jus- 
tice,—  justice  to  other  states  abroad,  the  strong,  the 
weak,  and  justice  to  all  sorts  of  men  at  home.  The 
law-book  is  the  nation's  creed  ;  the  newspapers 
chant  the  actual  liturgy  and  service  of  the  day. 
What  avails  it  that  the  priest  calls  us  "  Christian," 


358      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

while  the  newspapers  and  the  Congress  prove  us 
infidel  ?  The  social  sacrament  of  religion  is  justice 
to  all  about  you  in  society,  —  is  honesty  in  trade 
and  work,  is  friendship  and  philanthropy  ;  the  relig- 
ious strong  must  help  the  weak.  The  ecclesiastical 
sacrament  of  a  church  must  be  its  effort  to  promote 
piety  and  goodness  in  its  own  members  first,  and 
then  to  spread  it  round  the  world.  Care  for  the 
bodies  and  souls  of  men,  that  is  the  real  sacrament 
and  ordinance  of  religion  for  society,  the  Church 
and  State. 

For  the  individual  man,  for  you  and  me,  there  are 
two  great  natural  sacraments.  One  is  inward  and 
not  directly  seen,  save  by  the  eye  of  God  and  by 
your  own,  —  the  continual  effort,  the  great  life-long 
act  of  prayer  to  be  a  man,  with  a  man's  body 
and  a  man's  spirit,  doing  a  man's  duties,  having  a 
man's  rights,  and  thereby  enjoying  the  welfare  of  a 
man.  That  is  one,  —  the  internal  ordinance  of  relig- 
ion. The  other  is  like  it,  —  the  earnest  attempt  to 
embody  this  in  outward  life,  to  make  the  manly  act 
of  prayer  a  manly  act  of  practice  too.  These  are 
the  only  sacraments  for  the  only  worship  of  the  only 
God.  Let  me  undervalue  no  means  of  growth,  no 
hope  of  glory ;  these  are  the  ends  of  growth,  the 
glory  which  men  hope. 

Is  not  all  this  true  ?  You  and  I,  —  we  all  know 
it.     There  is  but  one  religion,  natural  and  revealed 


CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      359 

by  nature,  —  by  outward  nature  poorly  and  in  hints, 
but  by  man's  inward  spirit  copiously  and  at  large. 
It  is  piety  in  your  prayer ;  in  your  practice  it  is  mo- 
rality. But  try  the  nations,  society,  the  Church,  per- 
sons, by  this  sacramental  test,  and  what  a  spectacle 
we  are !  For  the  religion  of  the  State,  study  the 
ends  and  actions  of  the  State  ;  study  the  religion  of 
the  Church  by  the  doctrines  and  the  practice  of  the 
Church;  the  religion  of  society,  —  read  it  in  the 
great  cities  of  the  land.  "  Thy  kingdom  come,  Thy 
will  be  done,"  prays  the  minister.  Listen  to  the 
"  Amen  "  of  the  courts  and  the  market,  responding 
all  the  week!  The  actual  religion  of  mankind  is 
always  summed  up  in  the  most  conspicuous  men. 
Is  that  religion  Christian  ?  Spirit  of  the  Crucified  ! 
how  we  take  thy  honored  name  in  vain !  Yet  we 
did  not  mean  to  be  led  astray :  the  nations  did  not 
mean  it ;  the  cities  meant  it  not;  the  churches  prayed 
for  better  things ;  the  chief  men  stumbled  and  fell. 
We  have  altogether  mistaken  the  ordinance  of  relig- 
ion, and  must  mend  that. 

The  New  England  Indian  insisted  upon  his  poor, 
hungry  sacrament ;  so  did  the  barbarian  German  ; 
so  the  Jew,  the  Catholic,  the  Protestant;  and  each 
sectarian  has  his  Shibboleth  of  ritual  and  creed. 
How  poor  and  puerile  are  all  these  things !  How 
puerile  and  poor  the  idea  of  God  asking  such  trifles 


360      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

of  mortal  man  !  We  shall  never  mend  matters  till 
we  take  the  real  religious  sacrament,  scorning  to 
be  deluded  longer  by  such  idle  shows. 

Now  it  has  come  to  such  a  pass,  that  men  wish  to 
limit  all  religion  to  their  artificial  sacraments.  The 
natural  ordinance  of  human  piety  must  not  be  even 
commended  in  the  church.  You  must  not  apply  re- 
ligion to  politics ;  it  makes  men  mad.  There  is  no 
law  of  God  above  the  written  laws  of  men.  You 
must  not  apply  it  to  trade :  business  is  business ; 
religion  is  religion.  Business  has  the  week  for  his 
time,  the  world  for  his  market-place;  religion  has 
her  Sunday  and  her  meeting-house ;  let  each  pursue 
his  own  affairs.  So  the  minister  must  not  expose 
the  sins  of  trade  nor  the  sins  of  politics.  Then,  too, 
public  opinion  must  be  equally  free  from  the  incur- 
sions of  piety.  "  O  Religion !  "  say  men,  "  be  busy 
with  thy  sacramental  creeds,  thy  sacramental  rites, 
thy  crumb  of  bread,  thy  sip  of  wine,  thy  thimbleful 
of  water  sprinkled  on  a  baby's  face,  but  leave  the 
state,  the  market  and  all  men,  to  serve  the  Devil,  and 
be  lost."  "  Very  well,"  says  the  priest,  "  I  accept  the 
condition.     Come  and  take  our  blessed  religion  !  " 

I  began  by  saying  how  beautiful  is  real  piety ;  so 
let  me  end.  I  love  to  study  this  in  the  forms  of  the 
past,  in  the  mystic  forms  of  Thomas  a  Kempis  and 
William  Law,  in  Fenelon  and  Swedenborg,  in  John 


CONVENTIONAL   AND    NATURAL   SACRAMENTS.      361 

Tauler,  in  St.  Bernard  and  St.  Victor,  in  Taylor  and 
Herbert.  But  there  it  appears  not  in  its  fairest  form. 
I  love  to  see  piety  at  its  work  better  than  in  its  play 
or  its  repose ;  in  philanthropists  better  than  in  monks 
and  nuns,  who  gave  their  lives  to  contemplation  and 
to  wordy  prayer,  and  their  bodies  to  be  burned.  I 
love  piety  embodied  in  a  Gothic  or  Roman  cathe- 
dral, an  artistic  prayer  in  stone,  but  better  in  a  nation 
well  fed,  well  housed,  well  clad,  instructed  well,  a 
natural  prayer  in  man  or  woman.  I  love  the  water 
touched  by  electric  fire,  and  stealing  upwards  to  the 
sky,  lovely  in  the  light  of  the  uprising  or  slowly  sink- 
ing sun.  I  love  it  not  the  less  descending  down  as 
dew  and  rain,  to  still  the  dust  in  all  the  country 
roads,  to  cool  the  pavement  in  the  heated  town,  to 
wash  the  city's  dirtiest  lane,  and  in  the  fields  giving 
grass  to  the  cattle,  and  bread  to  men.  What  is  so 
fair  as  sentiment,  is  lovelier  as  life. 

All  the  triumphs  of  ancient  piety  are  for  you  and 
me ;  the  lofty  sentiment,  the  high  resolve,  the  vision 
filled  with  justice,  beauty,  truth,  and  love.  The 
great,  ascending  prayer,  the  manly  consciousness  of 
God,  his  income  to  your  soul  as  justice,  beauty, 
truth,  and  faith  and  love, —  all  these  wait  there  for 
you,  —  happiness  now  and  here  ;  hereafter  the  cer- 
tain blessedness  which  cannot  pass  away. 

Piety  is  beautiful  in  all ;  to  a  great  man  it  comes 
as  age  comes  to  the  Parthenon  or  the  Pyramids, 

31 


362      CONVENTIONAL   AND   NATURAL   SACRAMENTS. 

making  what  was  vast  and  high  majestic,  venerable, 
sublime,  and  to  their  beauty  giving  a  solemn  awe 
they  never  knew  before.  To  men  not  great,  to  the 
commonest  men,  it  also  comes,  bringing  refinement 
and  a  loveliness  of  substance  and  of  shape ;  so  that 
in  a  vulgar  ecclesiastic  crowd  they  seem  like  sculp- 
tured gems  or  beryl  and  of  emerald  among  the  com- 
mon pebbles  of  the  sea. 

Piety  is  beautiful  in  all  relations  of  life.  When 
your  wooing,  winsome  soul  shall  wed  the  won  to  be 
your  other  and  superior  self,  a  conscious  piety  hal- 
lows and  beautifies  the  matrimonial  vow,  —  deepens 
and  sanctifies  connubial  love.  When  a  new  soul  is 
added  to  your  household, —  a  new  rose-bud  to  your 
bosom,  —  a  bright,  particular  star  dropped  from  the 
upper  sphere  and  dazzling  in  your  diadem,  —  your 
conscious  love  of  God  will  give  the  heavenly  visit- 
ant the  truest,  the  most  prophetic  and  most  blessed 
baptismal  welcome  here.  And  when,  out  of  the 
circle  that  twines  you  round  with  loving  hearts  be- 
loved, some  one  is  taken,  born  out  of  your  family, 
not  into  it,  a  conscious  piety  will  seem  to  send  celes- 
tial baptism  to  the  heaven-born  soul.  And  when 
the  mists  of  age  gather  about  your  eye,  when  the 
silver  cord  of  life  is  loosed  and  the  golden  bowl 
at  the  fountain  begins  to  break,  with  what  a  blessed 
triumph  shall  you  close  your  mortal  sense  to  this 
romantic  moon  and  this  majestic  sun,  to  the  stars  of 


CONVENTIONAL  AND   NATURAL    SACRAMENTS.      363 

earth  that  bloom  below,  the  starry  flowers  that  burn 
above,  to  open  your  soul  on  glory  which  the  eye 
has  not  seen,  nor  yet  the  heart  of  man  been  compe- 
tent to  dream ! 

"  Thy  sweetness  hath  b.etrayed  Thee,  Lord  ! 
Dear  Spirit !  it  is  Thou  ; 
Deeper  and  deeper  in  my  heart 
I  feel  Thee  nestling  now  ! 

"  Dear  Comforter  !     Eternal  Love  ! 
Yes,  Thou  wilt  stay  with  me, 
If  manly  thoughts  and  loving  ways 
Build  but  a  nest  for  Thee  !  " 


X. 

OF    COMMUNION    WITH    GOD 


TIIE    COMMUNION     OF     THE     HOLY     GHOST     BE     WITH     TOU     ALL. — 

2  Cor.  xiii.   14. 

Simeon  the  Stylite  lived  on  the  top  of  the  pillar 
at  Antioch  for  seven-and-thirty-years,  for  the  sake  of 
being  nearer  to  God  and  holding  communion  with 
Him.  Some  men  shut  themselves  up  in  convents 
and  nunneries  under  vows  of  perpetual  asceticism, 
thinking  that  God  will  come  into  the  soul  the  easier 
if  the  flesh  be  worn  thin,  the  body  looped  and  win- 
dowed with  bad  usage  and  unnatural  hard  fare. 
All  the  monasteries  are  designed  to  produce  com- 
munion with  God.  "  He  dwells,"  say  the  priests, 
"  not  in  the  broad  way  and  the  green,  but  in  the 
stillness  of  the  cloister."  All  the  churches  in  Chris- 
tendom are  built  to  promote  access  to  Him  in  vari- 
ous forms.  "  This  is  the  gate  of  heaven,"  says  the 
priest,  of  his  church.  All  the  ritual  services  are  for 
this  end,  — to  draw  God  down  to  men,  or  draw  men 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  365 

up  to  God ;  or  to  appease  His  "  wrath."  So  also 
are  the  mosques  of  the  Mahometans,  the  synagogues 
of  the  Jews,  and  all  the  temples  of  the  world.  The 
Pyramids  of  Egypt,  the  Parthenon  at  Athens,  St. 
Peter's  at  Rome,  the  Mormon  temple  at  Nauvoo, — 
all  are  but  the  arms  of  man  artificially  lengthened 
and  reached  out  to  grasp  the  Holy  Ghost,  enfold 
it  to  the  human  heart,  and  commune  with  it,  soul 
to  soul.  The  little  hymn  which  a  mother  teaches 
her  child,  cradled  on  her  knee,  the  solemn  litany 
which  England  pays  her  thousand  priests  to  chant 
each  day  in  every  cathedral  of  the  land,  —  all  are 
for  the  same  end,  to  promote  communion  with  God. 
For  this  the  Quaker  sits  silent  in  his  unadorned 
meeting-house  waiting  for  the  Spirit,  lying  low  in 
the  hand  of  God  to  receive  His  inspiration.  For 
this  you  and  I  lift  up  our  hearts  in  silent  or  un- 
spoken prayer.  The  petition  for  this  communion  is 
common  to  the  enlightened  of  all  mankind.  It  may 
ascend  equally  from  Catholic  or  Quaker,  from  bond 
and  free,  from  Hebrew,  Buddhist,  Christian,  Ma- 
hometan, —  from  all  who  have  any  considerable 
growth  of  soul. 

I  love  to  look  at  common  life,  business  and  poli- 
tics, from  the  stand-point  of  religion,  and  hence  am 
thought  to  be  hard  upon  the  sins  of  the  State  and 
the  sins  of  business,  trying  all  things  by  the  higher 

31* 


366  COMMUNION    WITH   GOD. 

law  of  God.  But  if  religion  is  good  for  any  thing, 
it  is  as  a  rule  of  conduct  for  daily  life,  in  the  busi- 
ness of  the  individual  and  the  business  of  the  na- 
tion. It  is  poor  policy  and  bad  business  that  can- 
not bear  to  be  looked  at  in  the  light  that  lighteneth 
every  man,  and  tried  by  the  divine  measure  of  all 
things.  It  is  a  poor  clock  that  will  not  keep  the 
time  of  the  universe. 

I  love  to  look  at  philosophy  —  science  and  meta- 
physics —  from  the  stand-point  of  religion,  and  see 
how  the  conclusions  of  the  intellect  square  with  the 
natural  instincts  of  the  heart  and  soul.  Then  I  love 
to  change  places,  and  look  at  religion  and  all  the 
spontaneous  instincts  of  the  soul,  with  the  eye  of 
the  intellect,  from  the  stand-point  of  philosophy. 
Hence  I  am  thought  to  be  hard  upon  the  Church  ; 
amiable  enough  toward  natural  human  religion,  but 
cruel  toward  revealed,  divine  theology.  Yet  if  the 
intellect  is  good  for  any  thing,  it  is  good  to  try  the 
foundations  of  religion  with.  The  mind  is  the  eye 
of  consciousness.  It  is  a  poor  doctrine  that  cannot 
.bear  to  be  looked  at  in  the  dry  light  of  reason.  Let 
us  look  hard  and  dry  at  this  notion  of  communion 
with  God,  and  by  reason  severely  ascertain  if  there 
be  such  a  thing ;  what  it  is  ;  how  it  is  to  be  had  ; 
and  what  comes  thereof. 

There  must  be  such  a  thing  as  communion  be- 
tween God  and  man.     I  mean,  defining  that  provis- 


COMMUNION   WITH    GOD.  367 

ionally,  there  must  be  a  giving  on  God's  part,  and 
a  taking  on  man's  part.     To  state  the  matter  thus  is 
to    make    it    evident,  —  since    it    follows    from    the 
nature  of  God ;    for  from  the    necessity  of  his  na- 
ture the  Infinite  Being  must  create  and  preserve  the 
finite,  and  to  the  finite  must,  in  its  forms,  give  and 
communicate  of  his  own  kind.     It  is  according  to 
the  infinite  nature  of  God  to  do  so ;  as  according  to 
the  finite  nature  of  light  to  shine,  of  fire  to  burn,  of 
water  to  wet.     It  follows  as  well  from  the  nature  of 
man  as  finite  and  derivative.     From  the  necessity  of 
his  nature,  he  must  receive  existence  and  the  means 
of  continuance.      He    must    get   all   his   primitive 
power,  which  he  starts  with,  and  all  his  materials 
for  secondary  and  automatic  growth,  from  the  Primi- 
tive and  Infinite  Source.     The  mode  of  man's  finite 
being  is  of  necessity  a  receiving  ;  of  God's  infinite 
being,  of  necessity  a  giving.     You  cannot  conceive 
of  any  finite  thing  existing  without  God,  the  Infi- 
nite basis  and  ground  thereof ;    nor  of   God  exist- 
ing without  something.     God  is  the  necessary  logi- 
cal condition  of  a  world,   its   necessitating   cause  ; 
a  world,  the   necessary   logical   condition   of    God, 
his  necessitated  consequence.     Communion  between 
the  two  is  a  mutual  necessity  of  nature,  on  God's 
part  and  on  man's    part.      I    mean    it  is  according 
to  the  infinite  perfection  of  God's  nature  to  create, 
and  so   objectify  Himself,  and   then    preserve    and 


368  COMMUNION    WITH   GOD. 

bless  whatever  He  creates.  So  by  His  nature  He 
creates,  preserves,  and  gives.  And  it  is  according  to 
the  finite  nature  of  man  to  take.  So  by  his  nature, 
soon  as  created,  he  depends  and  receives,  and  is 
preserved  only  by  receiving  from  the  Infinite 
Source. 

That  is  the  conclusion  of  modern  metaphysical 
science.  The  stream  of  philosophy  runs  down  from 
Aristotle  to  Hegel  and  Hickok,  and  breaks  off'  with 
this  conclusion  ;  and  I  see  not  how  it  can  be  gain- 
said. The  statements  are  apodictic,  self-evident  at 
every  step. 

All  that  is  painfully  abstract  ;  let  me  make  it 
plainer  if  I  can,  —  at  least  shoot  one  shaft  more  at 
the  same  mark  from  the  other  side.  You  start  with 
yourself,  with  nothing  but  yourself.  You  are  con- 
scious of  yourself  ;  not  of  yourself  perhaps  as  Sub- 
stance, surely  as  Power  to  be,  to  do,  to  suffer.  But 
you  are  conscious  of  yourself  not  as  self-originated 
at  all,  or  as  self-sustained  alone  ;  only  as  dependent, 
—  first  for  existence,  ever  since  for  support. 

You  take  the  primary  ideas  of  consciousness 
which  are  inseparable  from  it,  the  atoms  of  self- 
consciousness  ;  amongst  them  you  find  the  idea  of 
God.  Carefully  examined  by  the  scrutinizing  intel- 
lect, it  is  the  idea  of  God  as  Infinite,  —  perfectly 
powerful,  wise,  just,  loving,  holy,  —  absolute  being, 
with    no   limitation.     It   is  this   which   made   you, 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  369 

made  all  ;  sustains  you,  sustains  all  ;  made  your 
body,  not  by  a  single  act,  but  by  a  series  of  acts 
extending  over  millions  of  years,  —  for  man's  body 
is  the  resultant  of  all  created  things  ;  made  your 
spirit,  —  your  mind,  your  conscience,  your  affections, 
your  soul,  your  will  ;  appointed  for  each  its  natural 
mode  of  action  ;  set  each  at  its  several  aim.  Self- 
consciousness  leads  you  to  consciousness  of  God ; 
at  last  to  consciousness  of  Infinite  God.  He  is  the 
Primitive,  whence  you  are  the  derivative.  You 
must  receive,  or  you  could  not  be  a  finite  man ;  and 
He  must  give,  or  He  could  not  be  the  Infinite  God. 
Hence  the  communion  is  unavoidable,  an  ontologi- 
cal  fact. 

God  must  be  omnipresent  in  space.  There  can 
be  no  mote  that  peoples  the  sunbeams,  no  spot  on 
an  insect's  wing,  no  little  cell  of  life  which  the  mi- 
croscope discovers  in  the  seed-sporule  of  a  moss, 
and  brings  to  light,  but  God  is  there,  in  the  mote 
that  peoples  the  sunbeams,  in  that  spot  on  the  in- 
sect's wing,  in  that  cell  of  life  the  microscope  dis- 
covers in  the  seed-sporule  of  a  moss. 

God  must  be  also  omnipresent  in  time.  There  is 
no  second  of  time  elapsing  now,  there  has  been 
none  millions  of  years  ago,  before  the  oldest  stars 
began  to  burn,  but  God  was  in  that  second  of 
time. 


370  COMMUNION   WITH    GOD. 

Follow  the  eye  of  the  great  space-penetrating 
telescope  at  Cambridge  into  the  vast  halls  of  crea- 
tion, to  the  furthest  nebulous  spot  seen  in  Orion's 
belt, —  a  spot  whose  bigness  no  natural  mind  can 
adequately  conceive,  —  and  God  is  there.  Follow 
the  eye  of  the  great  sharply  defining  microscope  at 
Berlin  into  some  corner  of  creation,  to  that  little 
dot,  one  of  many  millions  that  people  an  inch  of 
stone,  once  animate  with  swarming  life,  a  spot  too 
small  for  mortal  mind  adequately  to  conceive, — 
and  God  is  there. 

Get  you  a  metaphysic  microscope  of  time  to 
divide  a  second  into  its  billionth  part  ;  God  is  in 
that.  Get  you  a  metaphysic  telescope  of  time,  to 
go  back  in  millenniums  as  the  glass  in  miles,  and 
multiply  the  duration  of  a  solar  system  by  itself  to 
get  an  immensity  of  time,  —  still  God  is  there,  in 
each  elapsing  second  of  that  millennial  stream  of 
centuries ;  His  Here  conterminous  with  the  all  of 
space,  his  Now  coeval  with  the  all  of  time. 

Through  all  this  space,  in  all  this  time,  His 
Being  extends,  "  spreads  undivided,  operates  un- 
spent ; "  God  in  all  his  infinity,  —  perfectly  power- 
ful, perfectly  wise,  perfectly  just,  perfectly  loving 
and  holy.  His  being  is  an  infinite  activity,  a  cre- 
ating, and  so  a  giving  of  Himself  to  the  world. 
The  world's  being  is  a  becoming,  a  being  created 
and  continued.     This  is  so  in  the  nebula  of  Orion's 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  371 

belt,  and  in  the  seed-sporule  of  the  smallest  moss. 
It  is  so  now,  and  was  the  same  millions  of  millen- 
niums ago. 

All  this  is  philosophy,  the  unavoidable  conclusion 
of  the  human  mind.  It  is  not  the  opinion  of  Cole- 
ridge and  Kant,  but  their  science  ;  not  what  they 
guess,  but  what  they  know. 

In  virtue  of  this  immanence  of  God  in  matter, 
we  say  the  world  is  a  revelation  of  God ;  its  exist- 
ence a  show  of  His.  Some  good  books  picture  to 
us  the  shows  of  things,  and  report  in  print  the  whis- 
per of  God  which  men  have  heard  in  the  material 
world.  They  say  that  God  is  a  good  optician, — 
for  the  eye  is  a  telescope  and  a  microscope,  the  two 
in  one  ;  that  He  is  a  good  chemist  also,  ordering  all 
things  "  by  measure  and  number  and  weight ;  "  that 
he  is  a  good  mechanic,  —  for  the  machinery  of  the 
world,  old  as  it  is,  is  yet  "  constructed  after  the 
most  approved  principles  of  modern  science."  All 
that  is  true,  but  the  finite  mechanic  is  not  in  his 
work  ;  he  wakes  it  and  then  withdraws.  God  is  in 
His  work,  — 

"  As  full,  as  perfect  in  a  hair  as  Least ; " 
"  Acts  not  by  partial,  but  by  general  laws." 

All  nature  works  from  within;  the  force  that  ani- 
mates it  is  in  every  part.  It  was  objected  to  Sir 
Isaac  Newton's  philosophy,  that  it  makes  the  world 


372  COMMUNION   WITH    GOD. 

all  mechanism,  which  goes  without  external  help, 
and  so  is  a  universe  without  a  God ;  men  thinking 
that  He  could  not  work  at  all  in  the  world-machine, 
unless  they  saw  the  Great  Hand  on  the  crank 
now  and  then,  or  felt  the  jar  of  miraculous  inter- 
position when  some  comet  swept  along  the  sky. 
The  objection  was  not  just,  for  the  manifold  action 
of  the  universe  is  only  the  Infinite  God's  mode  of 
operation.  Newton  merely  showed  the  mode  of 
operation,  —  that  it  was  constant  and  wonderful, 
not  changing  and  miraculous ;  and  so  described  a 
higher  mode  of  operation  than  those  men  could 
fathom,  or  even  reverence. 

These  things  being  so,  all  material  things  that  are 
must  needs  be  in  communion  with  God ;  their  crea- 
tion was  their  first  passive  act  of  communion  ;  their 
existence,  a  continual  act  of  communion.  As  God 
is  infinite,  nothing  can  be  without  Him,  nothing 
without  communion  with  Him.  The  stone  I  sit 
on  is  in  communion  with  God ;  the  pencil  I  write 
with  ;  the  gray  field-fly  reposing  in  the  sunshine  at 
my  foot.  Let  God  withdraw  from  the  space  oc- 
cupied by  the  stone,  the  pencil,  and  fly,  they  cease 
to  be.  Let  Him  withdraw  any  quality  of  his  na- 
ture therefrom,  and  they  must  cease  to  be.  All 
must  partake  of  Him,  immanent  in  each  and  yet 
transcending  all. 

In  this  communion,  these  and  all  things  receive 


.COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  373 

after  their  kind,  according  to  their  degree  of  being 
and  the  mode  thereof.  The  mineral,  the  vegetable, 
and  the  animal  represent  three  modes  of  being,  three 
degrees  of  existence  ;  and  hence  so  many  modes 
and  degrees  of  dependence  on  God  and  of  commu- 
nion with  Him.  They  are,  they  grow,  they  move 
and  live-,  in.  Him,  and  by  means  of  Him,  and  only 
so.  But  none  of  these  are  conscious  of  this  com- 
munion. In  that  threefold  form  of  being  there  is 
no  consciousness  of  God  ;  they  know  nothing  of 
their  dependence  and  their  communion.  The  wa- 
ter-fowl, in  the  long  pilgrimage  of  many  a  thou- 
sand miles,  knows  naught  of  Him  who  teaches  its 
way 

"  Along  that  pathless  coast, 
The  desert  and  illimitable  air, 

Lone  wandering,  but  not  lost." 

To  the  dog,  man  stands  for  God  or  devil.  The 
"  half-reasoning  elephant "  knows  nobody  and  is 
conscious  of  nothing  higher  than  his  keeper,  who 
rides  upon  his  neck,  pulling  his  ears  with  curved 
hook.     All  these  are  ignorant  of  God. 

We  come  to  man.  Here  he  is,  a  body  and  a 
spirit.  The  vegetable  is  matter,  and  something 
more  ;  the  animal  is  vegetable  also,  and  something 
more  ;  man  is  animal  likewise,  and  something  more. 
So  far  as  I  am  matter,  a  vegetable,  an  animal,  — 
and  I  am  each  in  part,  —  I  have  the  appropriate 

32 


374  COMMUNION    WITH    GOD. 

communion  of  the  vegetable,  the  mineral,  the  ani- 
mal world.  My  body,  this  hand,  for  example,  is 
subject  to  statical,  dynamical,  and  vital  laws.  God 
is  in  this  hand  ;  without  his  infinite  existence,  its 
finite  existence  could  not  be.  It  is  a  hand  only  by 
its  unconscious  communion  with  Him.  It  wills 
nothing ;  it  knows  nothing  ;  yet  all  day  long,  and 
all  the  night,  each  monad  thereof  retains  all  the 
primary  statical  and  dynamical  qualities  of  matter; 
continually  the  blood  runs  through  its  arteries  and 
veins,  mysteriously  forming  this  complicated  and 
amazing  work.  Should  God  withdraw,  it  were  a 
hand  no  more ;  the  blood  would  cease  to  fiow^  in 
vein  and  artery ;  no  monad  would  retain  its  primary 
dynamical  and  static  powers ;  each  atom  would 
cease  to  be. 

All  these  things,  the  stone,  the  pencil,  and  the  fly 
and  hand,  are  but  passive  and  unconscious  com- 
municants of  God ;  they  are  bare  pipes  alone  into 
which  His  omnipotence  flows.  Yes,  they  are  poor, 
brute  things,  which  know  Him  not,  nor  cannot 
ever  know.  The  stone  and  pencil  know  not  them- 
selves ;  this  marvellous  hand  knows  naught  ;  and 
the  fly  never  says,  reasoning  with  itself,  "  Lo,  here 
am  I,  an  individual  and  a  conscious  thing  sucking 
the  bosom  of  the  world."  It  never  separates  the 
Not-me  and  the  Me.  But  I  am  conscious  ;  I  know 
myself,  and  through  myself  know  God.    I  am  a  mind 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  375 

to  think,  a  conscience  to  perceive  the  just  and  right ; 
I  am  a  heart  to  love,  a  soul  to  know  of  God. 
For  communion  with  my  God  I  have  other  facul- 
ties than  what  He  gives  to  stone  and  pencil,  hand 
and  fly. 

Put  together  all  these  things  which  are  not  body, 
and  call  them  Spirit :  this  spirit  as  a  whole  is  de- 
pendent on  God,  for  creation  first,  and  for  existence 
ever  since ;  it  lives  only  by  communion  with  Him. 
So  far  as  I  am  a  body,  I  obviously  depend  on  God, 
and  am  no  more  self-created  and  self-sufficing  than 
the  pencil  or  the  fly.  So  far  as  I  am  a  spirit,  I 
depend  equally  on  Him.  Should  God  withdraw 
Himself  or  any  of  His  qualities  from  my  mind,  I 
could  not  think  ;  from  conscience,  I  should  know 
nothing  of  the  right  ;  from  the  heart,  there  could  be 
no  love  ;  from  the  soul,  then  there  could  be  no  holi- 
ness, no  faith  in  Him  that  made  it.  Thus  the  very 
existence  of  the  spirit  is  a  dependence  on  God,  and 
so  far  a  communion  with  Him. 

I  cannot  wholly  separate  my  spirit  from  this  com- 
munion ;  for  that  would  be  destruction  of  the  spirit, 
annihilation,  which  is  in  no  man's  power.  Only 
the  Infinite  can  create  or  annihilate  an  atom  of  mat- 
ter or  a  monad  of  spirit.  There  is  a  certain  amount 
of  communion  of  the  spirit  with  God,  which  is  not 
conscious ;  that  lies  quite  beyond  my  control.  I 
"  break  into    the    bloody  house    of  life,"    and    my 


376  COMMUNIOX   WITH   GOD. 

spirit  rushes  out  of  the  body,  and  while  the  static 
and  dynamic  laws  of  nature  reassume  their  sway 
over  my  material  husk,  rechanging  it  to  dust,  still 
I  am,  I  depend,  and  so  involuntarily  commune 
with  God.  Even  the  popular  theology  admits  this 
truth,  for  it  teaches  that  the  living  wicked  still  com- 
mune with  God  through  pain  and  wandering  and 
many  a  loss  ;  and  that  the  wicked  dead  commune 
with  Him  through  hell  against  their  will,  as  with 
their  wall  the  heavenly  saints  through  heavenly  joy. 

I  cannot  end  this  communion  with  my  'God  ;  but 
I  can  increase  it,  greaten  it  largely,  if  I  will.  The 
more  I  live  my  higher  normal  life,  the  more  do  I 
commune  with  God.  If  I  live  only  as  mere  body, 
I  have  only  corporeal  and  unconscious  communion, 
as  a  mineral,  a  vegetable,  an  animal,  no  more.  As 
children,  we  all  begin  as  low  as  this.  The  child 
unborn  or  newly  born  has  no  self-consciousness, 
knows  nothing  of  its  dependence,  its  spontaneous 
communion  with  its  God,  whereon  by  laws  it  de- 
pends for  being  and  continuance.  As  w^e  outgrow 
our  babyhood  we  are  conscious  of  ourselves,  distin- 
guish the  Me  and  the  Not-me,  and  learn  at  length 
of  God. 

I  live  as  spirit,  I  have  spiritual  communion  with 
God.  Depend  on  Him  I  must ;  when  I  become  self- 
conscious,  I  feel  that  dependence,  and  know  of  this 
communion,  whereby  I  receive  from  Him. 


COMMUNION   WITH    GOD.  377 

The  quantity  of  my  receipt  is  largely  under  my 
control.  As  I  will,  I  can  have  less  or  more.  I  cul- 
tivate my  mind,  greatening  its  quantity  ;  by  all  its 
growth  I  have  so  much  more  communion  with  my 
Father;  each  truth  I  get  is  a  point  common  to 
Him  and  me.  I  cultivate  my  conscience,  increas- 
ing my  moral  sense  ;  each  atom  of  justice  that  I 
get  is  another  point  common  with  the  Deity.  So 
I  cultivate  and  enlarge  my  affections  ;  each  grain 
of  love  —  philanthropic  or  but  friendly  —  is  a  new 
point  common  to  me  and  God.  Then,  too,  I  cul- 
tivate and  magnify  my  soul,  greatening  my  sense 
of  holiness,  by  fidelity  to  all  my  nature ;  and  all  that 
I  thus  acquire  is  a  new  point  I  hold  in  common 
with  the  Infinite.  I  earnestly  desire  His  truth,  His 
justice,  His  holiness  and  love,  and  He  communi- 
cates the  more.  Thus  I  have  a  fourfold  voluntary 
consciousness  of  God  through  my  mind  and  con- 
science, heart  and  soul  ;  know  Him  as  the  abso- 
lutely true  and  just  and  amiable  and  holy ;  and 
thereby  have  a  fourfold  voluntary  communion  with 
my  God.  He  gives  of  his  infinite  kind ;  I  receive 
in  my  finite  mode,  taking  according  to  my  capacity 
to  receive. 

I  may  diminish  the  quantity  of  this  voluntary 
communion..  For  it  is  as  possible  to  stint  the  spirit 
of  its  God,  as  to  starve  the  body  of  its  food ;  only 
not  to  the  final  degree,  —  to  destruction  of  the  spirit. 

32* 


378  COMMUNION   WITH   GOD. 

This  fact  is  well  known.  You  would  not  say  that 
Judas  had  so  much  and  so  complete  communion 
with  God  as  Jesus  had.  And  if  Jesus  had  yielded 
to  the  temptation  in  the  story,  all  would  declare  that 
for  the  time  he  must  diminish  the  ineome  of  God 
upon  his  soul.  For  unfaithfulness  in  any  part  les- 
sens the  quantity  and  mars  the  quality  of  our  com- 
munion with  the  Infinite. 

In  most  various  ways  men  may  enlarge  the 
power  to  communicate  with  God ;  complete  and 
normal  life  is  the  universal  instrument  thereof. 
Here  is  a  geologist  chipping  the  stones,  or  study- 
ing the  earthquake-waves ;  here  a  metaphysian  chip- 
ping the  human  mind,  studying  its  curious  laws,  — 
psychology,  logic,  ontology  ;  here  is  a  merchant,  a 
mechanic,  a  poet,  each  diligently  using  his  intellec- 
tual gift  ;  and  as  they  acquire  the  power  to  think, 
by  so  much  more  do  they  hold  intellectual  commu- 
nion with  the  thought  of  God,  their  finite  mind 
communing  with  the  Infinite.  My  active  power  of 
understanding,  imagination,  reason,  is  the  measure 
of  my  intellectual  communion  with  Him. 

A  man  strives  to  know  the  everlasting  right,  to 
keep  a  conscience  void  of  all  offence  ;  his  inward 
•eye  is  pure  and  single;  all  is  true  to  the  Eternal 
Right.  His  moral  powers  continually  expand,  and 
by  so  much  more  does  he  hold  communion  with  his 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  379 

God-  As  far  as  it  can  see,  his  finite  conscience 
reads  in  the  book  the  Eternal  Right  of  God.  A 
man's  power  of  conscience  is  the  measure  of  his 
moral  communion  with  the  Infinite. 

I  repress  my  animal  self-love,  I  learn  to  be  well- 
tempered,  disinterested,  benevolent,  friendly  to  a 
few,  and  philanthropic  unto  all ;  my  heart  is  ten 
times  greater  than  ten  years  ago.  To  him  that 
hath  shall  be  given  according  to  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  what  he  has,  and  I  communicate  with 
God  so  much  the  more.  The  greatness  of  my  heart 
is  the  measure  of  my  affectional  communion  with 
Him. 

I  cultivate  the  religious  faculty  within  me,  keep- 
ing my  soul  as  active  as  my  sense  ;  I  quicken  my 
consciousness  of  the  dear  God  ;  I  learn  to  rever- 
ence and  trust  and  love,  seeking  to  keep  his  every 
rule  of  conduct  for  my  sense'  and  soul ;  I  make  my 
soul  some  ten  times  larger  than  it  was,  and  just 
as  I  enhance  its  quantity  and  quality,  so  much  the 
more  do  I  religiously  commune  with  God.  The 
power  of  my  religious  sense  is  the  measure  of  my 
communion  with  my  Father.  I  feed  on  this,  and 
all  the  more  I  take,  the  more  I  grow,  and  still  the 
more  I  need. 

In  all  this  there  is  nothing  miraculous,  nothing 
mysterious,  nothing  strange.  From  his  mother's 
breast  it  is  the  largest  child  that  takes  the  most. 


380  COMMUNION    WITH    GOD. 

At  first  a  man's  spiritual  communion  is  very  little, 
is  most  exceeding  small  ;  but  in  normal  life  it  be- 
comes more  and  more  continually.  Some  of  you, 
grown  men,  can  doubtless  remember  your  religious 
experience  when  you  were  children.  A  very  little 
manna  was  food  enough  for  your  baby-soul.  But 
your  character  grew  more  and  more,  your  intellec- 
tual, moral,  and  religious  life  continually  became 
greater  and  greater ;  when  you  needed  much,  you 
had  no  lack,  when  little,  there  seemed  nothing  over ; 
demand  and  supply  are  still  commensurate.  Noth- 
ing is  more  under  our  control  than  the  amount  of 
this  voluntary  communion  with  God. 

"  Misfortunes,  do  the  best  we  can, 
Will  come  to  great  and  small." 

We  cannot  help  that,  but  we  can  progressively 
enlarge  the  amount  of  inspiration  wTe  receive  from 
Heaven,  spite  of  the  disappointments  and  sorrows  of 
life  ;  nay,  by  means  thereof. 

"  Thy  home  is  with  the  humble,  Lord  ! 
The  simple  are  Thy  rest ; 
Thv  lodging  is  in  childlike  hearts, 
Thou  makest  there  Thy  nest." 

Sometimes  a  man  makes  a  conscious  and  serious 
effort  to  receive  and  enlarge  this  communion.  He 
looks  over  his  daily  life ;  his  eye  runs  back  to  child- 
hood, and  takes  in  all  the  main  facts  of  his  outward 


COMMUNION   "WITH   GOD.  381 

and  inward  history.  He  sees  much  to  mend,  some- 
thing also  to  approve.  Here  he  erred  through  pas- 
sion, there  sinned  by  ambition ;  the  desire  from- 
within,  leagued  with  opportunity  from  without, 
making  temptation  too  strong  for  him.  He  is  pen- 
itent for  the  sin  that  was  voluntary,  or  for  the  heed- 
lessness whereby  he  went  astray,  —  sorrowful  at  his 
defeat.  But  he  remembers  the  manly  part  of  him, 
and  with  new  resolutions  braces  himself  for  new 
trials.  He  thinks  of  the  powers  that  lie  unused  in 
his  own  nature.  He  looks  out  at  the  examples  of 
lofty  men,  his  soul  is  stirred  to  its  deeper  depths. 
A  new  image  of  beauty  rises,  living  from  that  troub- 
led sea,  and  the  Ideal  of  human  loveliness  is  folded 
in  his  arms.  "  This  fair  Ideal,"  says  he,  "  shall  be 
mine.  I  also  will  be  as  whole  and  beautiful.  Ah, 
me !  how  can  I  ever  get  such  lovely  life  ?  "  Then 
he  thinks  of  the  Eternal  Wisdom,  the  Eternal  Jus- 
tice, the  Eternal  Love,  the  Eternal  Holiness,  which 
surrounds  him,  and  now  fills  up  his  consciousness, 
waiting  to  bless.  He  reaches  out  his  arms  towards 
that  Infinite  Motherliness  which  created  him  at  first 
and  preserved  him  ever  since  ;  which  surpassed 
when  he  fell  short,  furnishing  the  great  plan  of  his 
life  and  the  world's  life,  and  is  of  all  things  perfect 
Cause  and  Providence.  Then,  deeply  roused  in 
every  part,  he  communicates  with  the  Infinite  Mind 
and    Conscience,    Heart    and    Soul.      He   is    made 


382  COMMUNION   WITH   GOD. 

calmer  by  the  thought  of  the  immense  tranquillity 
which  enfolds  the  nervous  world  in  its  all-embrac- 
ing, silent  arms.  He  is  comforted  by  the  motherly 
aspect  of  that  Infinite  Eye,  which  never  slumbers 
in  its  watch  over  the  suffering  of  each  great  and 
every  little  thing,  converting  it  all  to  good.  He  is 
elevated  to  confidence  in  himself,  when  he  feels  so 
strong  in  the  never-ending  love  which  makes,  sus- 
tains, and  guides  the  world  of  matter,  beasts,  and 
men  ;  makes  from  perfect  motives,  sustains  with 
perfect  providence,  and  guides  by  perfect  love  to 
never-ending  bliss.  Yea,  the  tranquillity,  pity,  love, 
of  the  Infinite  Mother  enters  into  his  soul,  and  he 
is  tranquil,  soothed,  and  strong,  once  more.  He  has 
held  communion  with  his  God,  and  the  Divine  has 
given  of  the  Deity's  own  kind.  His  artistic  fancy 
and  his  plastic  hand  have  found  an  Apollo  in  that 
pliant  human  block. 

That  is  a  prayer.  I  paint  the  process  out  in 
words,  —  they  are  not  my  prayer  itself,  only  the 
cradle  of  my  blessed  heavenly  babe.  I  paint  it  not 
in  words,  —  it  is  still  my  prayer,  not  less  the  aspira- 
tion of  my  upward-flying  soul.  I  carry  my  child 
cradled  only  in  my  arms.' 

I  have  this  experience  in  my  common  and  daily 
life,  with  no  unusual  grief  to  stir,  or  joy  to  quicken, 
or  penitence  to  sting  me  into  deep  emotion  :  then 
my  prayer  is  only  a  border  round  my  daily  life,  to 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  383 

keep  the  web  from  ravelling  away  through  constant 
use  and  wear  ;  or  else  a  fringe  of  heaven,  where- 
by I  beautify  my  common  consciousness  and  daily 
work. 

But  there  strikes  for  me  a  greater  hour ;  some 
new  joy  binds  me  to  this,  or  puts  another  genera- 
tion into  my  arms  ;  another  heart  sheds  its  life  into 
my  own  ;  some  great  sorrow  sends  me  in  upon 
myself  and  God  ;  out  of  the  flower  of  self-indul- 
gence the  bee  of  remorse  stings  me  into  agony. 
And  then  I  rise  from  out  my  common  conscious- 
ness, and  take  a  higher,  wider  flight  into  the  vast 
paradise  of  God,  and  come  back  laden  from  the 
new  and  honeyed  fields  wherein  I  have  a  newer 
and  a  fresher  life  and  sweeter  communings  with 
loftier  loveliness  than  I  had  known  before.  Thus 
does  the  man,  that  will,  hold  commune  with  his 
Father,  face  to  face,  and  get  great  income  from  the 
Soul  of  all. 

In  all  this  there  is  nothing  miraculous  ;  there  has 
been  no  change  on  God's  part,  but  a  great  change 
on  man's.  We  have  received  what  He  is  univer- 
sally giving.  So  in  winter  it  is  clear  and  cold,  the 
winds  are  silent,  clouds  gather  over  the  city's  face, 
and  all  is  still.  How  cold  it  is !  In  a  few  hours  the 
warmth  steals  out  from  the  central  fire,  —  the  earth's 
domestic,  household  hearth  ;  the  clouds  confine  it 
in,  those  airy  walls,  that  it  flee  not  off,  nor  spread  to 


384  COMMUNION   WITH    GOD. 

boundless  space  ;  the  frost  becomes  the  less  intense, 
and  men  are  gladdened  with  the  milder  day.  So, 
when  magnetic  bars  in  time  have  lost  their  force, 
men  hang  them  up  in  the  line  of  the  meridian,  and 
the  great  loadstone,  the  earth,  from  her  own  breast, 
restores  their  faded  magnetism.  Thus  is  it  that 
human  souls  communicate  with  the  great  central 
Fire  and  Light  of  all  the  world,  the  loadstone  of 
the  universe,  and  thus  recruit,  grow  young  again, 
and  so  are  blessed  and  strong. 

There  may  be  a  daily,  conscious  communion 
with  God,  marked  by  reverence,  gratitude,  aspira- 
tion, trust,  and  love  ;  it  will  not  be  the  highest 
prayer. 

"  'T  is  the  most  difficult  of  tasks  to  keep 
Heights  that  the  soul  is  competent  to  gain." 

And  the  highest  prayer  is  no  common  event  in  a 
man's  life.  Ecstasy,  rapture,  great  delight  in  prayer, 
or  great  increase  thereby,  —  they  are  the  rarest 
things  in  the  life  of  any  man.  They  should  be 
rare.  The  tree  blossoms  but  once  a  year  ;  blooms 
for  a  week,  and  then  fulfils  and  matures  its  fruit  in 
the  long  months  of  summer  and  of  harvest-time,  — 
fruit  for  a  season,  and  seed  for  many  an  age.  The 
sun  is  but  a  moment  at  meridian.  Jesus  had  his 
temptation  but  once,  but  once  his  agony,  —  the  two 
foci  round  which  his  life's  beauteous  ellipse  was 
drawn.     The  intensest  consciousness  of  friendship 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  385 

does  not  last  long.  They  say  men  have  but  once 
the  ecstasy  of  love  ;  human  nature  could  not  bear 
such  a  continual  strain.  So  all  the  blossomings 
of  rapture  must  needs  be  short.  The  youthful 
ecstasy  of  love  leads  man  and  maid  by  moonlight 
up  the  steep,  sheer  cliffs  of  life,  "  while  all  below, 
the  world  in  mist  lies  lost ; "  then,  in  the  daylight 
of  marriage  they  walk  serenely  on,  along  the  high 
table-land  of  mortal  life,  and  though  continually 
greatening  their  connubial  love  and  joy,  it  is  with- 
out the  early  ecstasy. 

Men  sometimes  seek  to  have  their  daily  prayer 
high  and  ecstatic  as  their  highest  hour  and  walk 
with  God  ;  it  cannot  be  ;  it  should  not  be.  Some 
shut  themselves  up  in  convents  to  make  religion 
their  business,  —  all  their  life  ;  to  make  an  act  of 
prayer  their  only  act.  They  always  fail ;  their  relig- 
ion dwindles  into  ritual  service,  and  no  more  ;  their 
act  of  prayer  is  only  kneeling  with  the  knees  and 
talking  talk  with  windy  tongues.  A  Methodist,  in 
great  ecstasy  of  penitence  or  fear,  becomes  a  mem- 
ber of  a  church.  He  all  at  once  is  filled  with  raptur- 
ous delight  ;  religious  joy  blossoms  in  his  face,  and 
glitters  in  his  eye.     How  glad  is  the  converted  man  I 

"  Then  when  he  kneels  to  meditate, 
Sweet  thoughts  come  o'er  his  soul, 
Countless,  and  bright,  and  beautiful,. 
Beyond  his  own  control." 

33 


386  COMMUNION   WITH    GOD. 

But  by  and  by  his  rapture  dies  away,  and  he  is 
astonished  that  he  has  no  such  ecstasy  as  before. 
He  thinks  that  he  has  "fallen  from  grace,"  has 
"  grieved  away "  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  tries  by 
artificial  excitement  to  bring  back  what  will  not 
come  without  a  new  occasion.  Certain  religious 
convictions  once  made  my  heart  spring  in  my 
bosom.  Now  it  is  not  so.  The  fresh  leaping  of 
the  heart  will  only  come  from  a  fresh  conquest  of 
new  truth.  The  old  man  loves  his  wife  a  thou- 
sand times  better  than  when,  for  the  first  time,  he 
kissed  her  gracious  mouth  ;  but  his  heart  burns  no 
longer  as  when  he  first  saw  his  paradise  in  her 
reciprocating  eye.  The  tree  of  religious  conscious- 
ness is  not  in  perpetual  blossom,  —  but  now  in  leaf, 
now  flower,  now  fruit. 

It  is  a  common  error  to  take  no  heed  of  this  vol- 
untary communion  with  God,  to  live  intent  on  busi- 
ness or  on  pleasure,  careful,  troubled  about  many 
things,  and  seldom  heed  the  one  thing  needed  most ; 
to  take  that  as  it  comes.  If  all  this  mortal  life 
turned  out  just  as  we  wished  it,  this  error  would 
be  still  more  common  ;  only  a  few  faculties  would 
get  their  appropriate  discipline.  Men  walking  only 
on  a  smooth  and  level  road  use  the  same  muscles 
always,  and  march  like  mere  machines.  But  disap- 
pointment comes  on  us.     Sorrow  checks  our  course, 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  387 

and  we  are  forced  to  think  and  feel,  —  must  march 
now  up  hill,  and  then  down,  shifting  the  strain  from 
part  to  part.  In  mere  prosperity  most  men  are  con- 
tented to  enlarge  their  estate,  their  social  rank,  their 
daily  joy,  and  lift  their  children's  faces  to  the  vulgar 
level  of  the  vulgar  flood  whereon  their  fathers  float. 
There  comes  some  new  adventure  to  change  and 
mend  all  this.  Now  it  is  a  great  joy,  success  not 
looked  for,  —  some  kindred  soul  is  made  one  with 
us,  and  on  the  pinions  of  instinctive  connubial  love 
we  fly  upwards  and  enlarge  our  intercourse  with 
God,  —  the  object  of  passion  a  communion  angel 
to  lead  the  human  soul  to  a  higher  seat  in  the  uni- 
verse and  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
Soul  of  all.  Sometimes  the  birth  of  a  new  immor- 
tal into  our  arms  does  this,  and  on  the  pinions  of 
instinctive  affection  men  soar  up  to  heaven  and 
bring  back  healing  on  their  wings,  —  the  object  of 
affection  the  communion  angel  to  convey  and  wel- 
come them  to  heaven. 

Sometimes  it  is  none  of  these,  but  sorrow,  grief, 
and  disappointment  that  do  this.  I  set  my  heart 
upon  a  special  thing ;  —  it  is  not  mine,  or  if  I  get 
the  honor,  the  money,  the  social  rank  I  sought,  it 
was  one  thing  in  my  eye  and  another  in  my  grasp. 
The  one  bird  which  I  saw  in  the  bush  was  worth 
ten  like  that  I  hold  in  my  hand.  The  things  I 
loved  are    gone,  —  the    maid,    the    lover,    husband, 


388  COMMUNION   WITH   GOD. 

wife,  or  child  ;  the  mortal  is  taken  from  longing 
arms.  The  heart  looks  up  for  what  can  never  die. 
Then  there  is  a  marriage  and  a  birth,  not  into  your 
arms,  but  out  of  them  and  into  heaven ;  and  the  sor- 
row and  the  loss  stir  you  to  woo  and  win  that  Ob- 
ject of  the  soul  which  cannot  pass  away.  Your 
sorrow  takes  you  on  her  wings,  and  you  go  up 
higher  than  before ;  higher  than  your  success,  higher 
than  friendship's  daily  wing  ascends  ;  higher  than 
your  early  love  for  married  mate  had  ever  borne  you 
up  ;  higher  than  the  delight  in  your  first-born  child 
or  latest  born.  You  have  a  new  communion  with 
your  Father,  and  get  a  great  amount  of  inspiration 
from  Him. 

This  is  the  obvious  use  of  such  vicissitudes,  and 
seems  a  portion  of  their  final  cause.  In  the  artifi- 
cial, ecclesiastical  life  of  monasteries,  men  aim  to 
reproduce  this  part  of  nature's  discipline,  and  so 
have  times  of  watching,  fasting,  bodily  torture.  But 
in  common  life  such  discipline  asks  not  our  consent 
to  come. 

As  I  look  over  your  faces  and  recall  the  personal 
history  of  those  I  know,  I  see  how  universal  is  this 
disappointment.  But  it  has  not  made  you  more 
melancholy  and  less  manly  men  ;  life  is  not  thereby 
the  less  a  blessing,  and  the  more  a  load.  With  no 
sorrows  you  would  be  more  sorrowful.  For  all  the 
sorrows  that  man  has  faithfully  contended  with,  he 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  389 

shall  sail  into  port  deeper  fraught  with  manliness. 
The  wife  and  mother  at  thirty  years  of  age  im- 
prisoned in  her  chair,  her  hands  all  impotent  to 
wipe  a  tear  away,  does  not  suffer  for  nothing.  She 
has  thereby  been  taught  to  taste  the  fruits  of  swTeeter 
communion  with  her  God.  These  disappointments 
are  rounds  in  the  ladder  whereby  we  climb  to 
heaven. 

In  cities  there  is  less  to  help  us  communicate 
with  God  than  in  the  fields.  These  walls  of  brick 
and  stone,  this  artificial  ground  we  stand  on,  all  re- 
mind us  of  man  ;  even  the  city  horse  is  a  machine. 
But  in  the  country  it  is  God's  ground  beneath  our 
feet  ;  God's  hills  on  every  side  ;  his  heaven,  broad, 
blue,  and  boundless,  overhead  ;  and  every  bush  and 
every  tree,  the  morning  song  of  earliest  birds,  the 
chirp  of  insects  at  mid-day,  the  solemn  stillness  of 
the  night,  and  the  mysterious  hosts  of  stars  that  all 
night  long  climb  up  the  sky,  or  silently  go  down, 
—  these  continually  affect  the  soul,  and  cause  us  all 
to  feel  the  Infinite  Presence,  and  draw  near  to  that ; 
and  earth  seems  less  to  rest  in  space  than  in  the 
love  of  God.  So,  in  cities,  men  build  a  great 
church,  —  at  London,  Paris,  Venice,  or  at  Rome,  — 
seeking  to  compensate  for  lack  of  the  natural  ad- 
monitions of  the  woods  and  sky ;  and,  to  replace 
the  music  of  the  fields  and  nature's   art,  enlist  the 

33* 


390  COMMUNION   WITH    GOD. 

painter's  plastic  band  and  the   musician's  sweetest 
skill. 


All  that  seek  religion  are  in  search  for  commu- 
nion with  God.  What  is  there  between  Him  and 
thee  ?  Nothing  but  thyself.  Each  can  have  what 
inspiration  each  will  take.  God  is  continually  giv- 
ing ;  He  will  not  withhold  from  you  or  me.  As 
much  ability  as  He  has  given,  as  much  as  you  have 
enlarged  your  talent  by  manly  use,  so  much  will  He 
fill  with  inspiration.  I  hold  up  my  little  cup.  He 
fills  it  full.  If  yours  is  greater,  rejoice  in  that,  and 
bring  it  faithfully  to  the  same  urn.  He  who  fills 
the  violet  with  beauty,  and  the  sun  with  light, — 
who  gave  to  Homer  his  gift  of  song,  such  reason 
to  Aristotle,  and  to  Jesus  the  manly  gifts  of  justice 
and  the  womanly  grace  of  love  and  faith  in  Him,  — 
will  not  fail  to  inspire  also  you  and  me.  "Were  your 
little  cup  to  become  as  large  as  the  Pacific  sea,  He 
still  would  fill  it  full. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  having  a  godly  heart,  a 
desire  to  conform  to  the  ideal  of  man  in  all  things, 
and  to  be  true  to  Him  that  is  "  of  all  Creator  and 
Defence."  He  who  has  that  is  sure  of  conscious 
spiritual  communion  with  the  Father  ;  sure  to  find 
his  character  enlarging  in   every  manly  part  ;    sure 


COMMUNION   WITH    GOD.  391 

to  be  supplied  with  unexpected  growth,  and  to  hold 
more  of  the  Divine  ;  sure  of  the  voluntary  inspiration 
which  is  proper  to  the  self-conscious  man. 

There  are  continual  means  of  help  even  for  men 
who  dwell  hedged  up  in  towns.  There  are  always 
living  voices  which  can  speak  to  us.  A  good  book 
helps  one  ;  this  feeds  his  soul  for  a  time  on  the  fair 
words  of  David,  Paul,  or  John,  Taylor,  A  Kempis, 
Wordsworth,  Emerson  ;  that,  on  the  life  of  him  who 
gives  a  name  to  Christendom.  He  who  has  more 
than  I,  will  help  me ;  him  that  has  less,  I  shall  help. 
Some  men  love  certain  solemn  forms,  as  aids  to 
their  devotion  ;  I  hope  that  they  are  helped  thereby, 
—  that  baptism  helps  the  sprinkler  or  the  wet  ;  that 
circumcision  aids  the  Jew,  and  sacrifice  the  heathen 
who  offers  it.  But  these  are  not  the  communion, 
only  at  most  its  vehicle.  Communion  is  the  meet- 
ing of  the  finite  and  the  Infinite. 

If  a  man  have  a  truly  pious  soul,  then  his  whole 
inward,  outward  life  will  at  length  become  religion  ; 
for  the  disposition  to  be  true  to  God's  law  will 
appear  the  same  in  his  business  as  in  his  Sunday 
vow.  His  whole  work  will  be  an  act  of  faith,  he 
will  grow  greater,  better,  and  more  refined  by  com- 
mon life,  and  hold  higher  communion  with  the  Ever- 
Present  ;  the  Sun  of  righteousness  will  beautify  his 
every  day. 

God  is  partial  to  no  one,  foreign  to  none.     Did  he 


392  COMMUNION   WITH    GOD. 

inspire  the  vast  soul  of  Moses,  —  the  tender  hearts 
of  lowly  saints  in  every  clime  and  every  age  ?  He 
waits  to  come  down  on  you  and  me,  a  continual 
Pentecost  of  inspiration.  Here  in  the  crowded  vul- 
gar town,  everywhere,  is  a  Patmos,  a  Sinai,  a  Geth- 
semane  ;  the  Infinite  Mother  spreads  wide  her  arms 
to  fold  us  to  that  universal  breast,  ready  to  inspire 
your  soul.  God's  world  of  truth  is  ready  for  your 
intellect  ;  His  ocean  of  justice  waits  to  flow  in  upon 
your  conscience  ;  and  all  His  heaven  of  love  broods 
continually  by  night  and  day  over  each  heart  and 
every  soul.  From  that  dear  bounty  shall  we  be  fed. 
The  Motherly  Love  invites  all,  —  as  much  commu- 
nion as  we  will,  as  much  inspiration  as  our  gifts  and 
faithfulness  enable  us  to  take.  He  is  not  far  from 
any  one  of  us.  Shall  we  not  all  go  home,  —  the 
prodigal  rejoice  with  him  that  never  went  astray? 
Even  the  consciousness  of  sin  brings  some  into 
nearness  with  the  Father,  tired  of  their  draff  and 
husks ;  and  then  it  is  a  blessed  sin.  Sorrow  also 
brings  some,  and  then  it  is  a  blessed  grief ;  joy 
yet  others,  and  then  it  is  blessed  thrice.  In 
this  place  is  one  greater  than  the  temple,  greater 
than  all  temples  ;  for  the  human  nature  of  the  low- 
liest child  transcends  all  human  history.  And  we 
may  live  so  that  all  our  daily  life  shall  be  a  con- 
tinual approach  and  mounting  up  towards  God. 
What  is  the  noblest  life  ?     Not   that   born  in  the 


COMMUNION   WITH   GOD.  393 

most  famous  place,  acquiring  wealth  and  fame  and 
rank  and  power  over  matter  and  over  men  ;  but  that 
which,  faithful  to  itself  continually,  holds  commu- 
nion with  the  Infinite,  and,  thence  receiving  of  God's 
kind,  in  mortal  life  displays  the  truth,  the  justice, 
holiness,  and  love  of  God. 

"  O,  blessed  be  our  trials  then, 
This  deep  in  ■which  we  lie  ; 
And  blessed  be  all  things  that  teach 
God's  dear  Infinity." 


END. 


The  following   works   of  Mr.   Parker  may   be   had    of  Messrs. 
Little,  Broicn  &,"   Co.:  — 

A  Discourse  of  Matters  pertaining  to  Religion.  3d  Ed. 
1847.     1  vol.  12mo.     $1.25. 

An  Introduction  to  the  Old  Testament,  from  the  Ger- 
man of  De  Wette.   2d  Ed.  1850.    2  vols.  8vo.    S3. 75. 

Critical  and  Miscellaneous  Writings.   1843.  1  vol.  12mo. 

si. 25. 

Addresses  and  Occasional  Sermons.   1852.   2  vols.   12mo. 
$2.50. 

Ten  Sermons  of  Religion.   1852.    1  vol.  12mo.   $1. 

Sermons   of   Theism,   Atheism,  and  the   Popular  The- 
ology.   1853.    1  vol.  12mo.   $1.25. 

Additional  Speeches,  Addresses,  and  Occasional  Ser- 
mons.   1855.    2  vols.  12mo.   $2.50. 


Pamphlets.  —  Sermons  on  the  follotmng  Subjects: — 

Of  Old  Age.     1854.     15  cents. 

Of  the  New  Crime  against  Humanity.   1854.   20  cents. 

Of  the  Laws  of  God  and  the  Statutes  of  Men.    1854. 
15  cents. 

Of  the  Dangers  avhich  threaten  the  Rights  of  Man 
in  America.     1854.     20  cents. 

Of  the  Moral  Dangers  incident  to  Prosperity.    1855. 
15  cents. 

Of  the  Consequences  of  an  Immoral  Principle.     1855. 
15  cents. 


WORKS   BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR. 


A  Discourse  of  Matters  Pertaining  to  Religion. 
1  vol.  12mo 


An  Introduction  to  the  Old  Testament.    From  the 
German  of  De  Wette.     2d  ed.  2  vols.  8vo.  . 

Critical  and  Miscellaneous  Writings.     1  vol.  12mo 

Massachusetts  Quarterly  Review,  1848-50.    3  vols 
8vo.     In  Numbers. 


Occasional  Sermons  and  Speeches.     2  vols.  12mo. 

Ten  Sermons  of  Religion.     1  vol.  12mo. 

Sermons  of  Theism,  Atheism,  and  the  Popular  The 
ology.     1  vol.  12mo 

Additional  Sermons  and  Speeches.     2  vols.  12mo. 

The  Trial  of  Theodore  Parker  for  the  "Misde- 
meanor" of  a  Speech  in  Faneuil  Hall  against 
Kidnapping,  with  the  Defence.     1855.     1  vol.  8vo. 


$1.25 

3.75 

1.25 


4.50 
2.50 
1.00 

1.25 
2.50 

1.00 


PAMPHLETS. 


A  Sermon  of  Old  Age.    (1854.) 15 

The  Dangers  which  Threaten  the  Rights  of  Man 

in  America.     (1854.) 20 

The  Moral  Dangers  Incident  to  Prosperity.  (1855.)  15 

Consequences  of  an  Immoral  Principle.     (1855.)     .  15 

Function  of  a  Minister.    (1855.) 20 


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